New Lessons
by YoungAndRestless
Summary: IvanxGretel/Anita! Lemons in marked chapters. Gwen(female farmer) doesn't have the time for much, except to care for her farm and to spend quality time with her new family:the Zephyr Town residents.A spouse is the last thing on her mind. When one moment of carelessness causes a change in her life's pace, she begins to feel differently for a a reserved tutor. Harvest Moon
1. After the Rain

**General knowledge of the layout of the game's town, Zephyr Town, will be needed for full enjoyment of this story.**

 **Furthermore, I am aware that the canon name for the female farmer in Harvest Moon: Grand Bazaar is Gretel. However, I am not a fan of that name, so I will be changing the character's name to Gwen. This is a love story between the female farmer and Ivan; enjoy!**

My feet were aching by the time I reached the waterfall again. After a full day of caring for all the early spring crops, the livestock, and my fruit trees, as well as taking time to bond with my pets, my day still hadn't been done. Every day, I took time to visit each and every resident in Zephyr Town, making sure everyone was content, and if there was any way I could help. It was about four o'clock at night, and the sun was just beginning to dip below the tree line of the forest to the west of the small town.

Today was the 22nd day of Spring in my second year, and the year had began in a rush. My first week of the season was swamped with tilling the land from its winter harshness into supple soil, scattering seeds, watering and re-watering them, and making sure there was enough fertilizer to go around. When the seeds were beginning to sprout by the second week, and I was less worried about losing the harvest to the chill of the recent Winter.

I went around earlier that day, greeting the townspeople, taking time to ask them about their health, the weather, their work. I'm of a more reserved demeanor, so I spend most of the time listening, taking into account even the slightest complaint my neighbors might say. When Joan had complained that the past week of straight rain had washed all the flowers away, I'd ran home and grabbed a Toy Flower I had put in storage. When she saw it, the way her elderly eyes lit up was sweet.

"Oh my! Is this for me?" she had squeaked when I had held it out to her. "Thank you! How on Earth did you find this little guy?" she inquired further as she took it gently from my grasp.

"I found him at the beginning of the season," I had replied with a small smile. "I thought he might come in handy some day."

"You are just too kind!" Joan sighed. "Marian, isn't Gwen just too kind?"

"The kindest!" Marian called from across the café, with an agreeing nod of her blonde head as she served a passing through tourist a cup of tea. I hid my blush by turning, and with a quick goodbye, left the café. Outside, the sun was out from a seemingly endless cloud cover, at long last. The town was more of a lake, with how many puddles were scattered about. It being a weekend, I spent some time at Freya's house next.

Freya didn't have very many ties in town. No family, and no close friends before I moved to town. She was a very dedicated and hard working woman, pouring all of her energy into her work in the city. She was working as a mid ranking accountant in a business firm in the heart of the metropolis, but she was hoping for a promotion soon to being the head of the department. She enjoyed her work; there, she was important and surrounded by people just as motivated as her. In town, she often felt lonely.

I myself moved to the town for the exact opposite reason. I grew up in the city she and Claude work in, and hated it. The smog of the traffic, the honking of horns, the stank of countless bodies, the grey and black of endless cracked sidewalk…I craved the green grass, the fresh air, the blue sky, endless above me, and not framed by a rigid skyline. When I heard that a small town just removed from the bustle of the city was in need of a farmer, I'd jumped at the opportunity.

I suppose that's why we got along so well, her and I. Although we both are very different, we had two things in common: we were both lonely, looking for someone who understood a busy schedule, and we both were severely dedicated to our work. Being a farmer was the best decision I could've ever made.

I'd left Freya's after about an hour of relaxing, and had carefully crossed the bridge over the Zephyr River. The week straight of rain had caused the river to swell dangerously; whereas it usually slipped through the town, an old friend to the residents here, it was now angrily roaring, white foam spraying into the air. The bridges were soaked from the mist, and I could feel it quake beneath my feet as I jogged over it, afraid it would give out beneath me.

After shooting a nervous glance behind me, I had walked east to the mayor's spare house, and I was now climbing the front steps. I knock on the door and wait patiently. Lloyd opens the door after a moment, and smiles when he sees it is me. He invites me in, and I ask him about his day. After small talk, I inquire quietly about a few of the more intricate artifacts in his home, and he happily tells me of the places he collected each one from.

When I feel that I've begun to overstay my welcome, I excuse myself, saying I have to bring in the some of the animals for the evening. Lloyd walks me to the door, seeming pleased that I checked on him again. For the first year of my residency in the town, I talked to every single resident every single day. It had been exhausting, but it had also paid off; everyone in town enjoyed my company, and looked forward to my visits.

"Thank you for visiting my out of the way home, Gwen," Lloyd nodded, his stoic face emotionless.

"Thank you for having me," I nod, equally polite. I begin to walk away, but Lloyd calls out to me.

"You know…" he begins as I turn back to him. He sighs, and I begin to worry I've angered him, when he smiles at me, his head cocking to the side. "This town is really beginning to feel like my home. I hope you feel the same, Gwen." I blush and nod, quickly turning away and retreating.

Male attention has always made my already quiet personality silent and unsure. On the rare occasions I thought a man might be showing me interest, I've seized up and frozen, or ran scared from the situation. Friendship is fine, but… I just don't have the time to commit to dating. With the farm and having to care for the villagers just as much as the mayor, I also don't have the energy.

I turn to see if Lloyd is still watching me from the door, and I am relieved to find that he has closed the door and gone inside. It's about a quarter till five, and the sun has cast its warm, late afternoon rays across the town, bathing us in warmth.

I sneak by Lloyd's house, retracing my steps, and slip next to the waterfall, which is roaring at me defiantly. I recheck to make sure no one is watching, then jump onto the hidden shelf just above my sight, behind the curtain of water. I brush my hand against a regular looking rock, and hear the caw of a hawk over the deafening waterfall high above.

When I open my eyes again, the roar of the waterfall is gone, and I'm in complete silence. I step from the portal's mouth, and it's so quiet I can hear my footsteps echo across the still water around me. A light, unlike the sun's, is constant here, never getting dark at night, or more intense as afternoon approaches. The unearthly light reveals endless trees in all directions, disappearing with distance and with mist. The portal deposits me onto a floating stone walkway, just an inch above the still lake. The water never ripples, never shifts, a liquid, still mirror that perfectly reflects all around it.

I cross the floating stones slowly, taking time to admire the ethereal beauty of this parallel plane before quietly entering the Nature Shrine at the end of the pathway. Emiko turns when I enter, halting her ritual. She offers a shy smile.

"I wondered if you'd come back," she says with a relieved grin.

"I'm sorry, I tried," I mumble guiltily. "We've had a week straight of rain, and the portal won't open for me whenever the weather isn't calm." Emiko's smooth, ageless brow ripples in confusion, but smoothes into glee when I hand her an egg.

"What is this?" she asks in awe. As I launch into an explanation and function of the ever impressive egg, I try to shake my guilt. I met Emiko on the first of Spring my second year, and was saddened to hear that, for an endless period of time, her duty as the Nature Shrine's Maiden was the keep the balance of nature in the Zephyr area for the Harvest Goddess. I'd never heard of the Harvest Goddess before meeting Emiko, but she assured me she was real. Emiko's only purpose was to hold the balance of life and death in the town by performing countless rituals, and to soften the severity of her duty, the Goddess had bestow Emiko with immortality ages ago. For years, she had never seen another face, until mine, a few weeks ago. I tried not to imagine how distraught she must've felt this past week when I had stopped my daily visits to break up her loneliness, when she thought I would never come back. I try my best to shake my guilt at making her panic and worry, but I can't seem to rid myself of the shame.

After I am done speaking about eggs, we sit together in silence, both of us quiet and just enjoying the presence of the other. Emiko looks at me with such glee and gratefulness, and my shame intensifies. I tell her goodbye for the day, and promise to return the next day with another gift from the outside world. When I promise her I'll return, her faces lights up with anticipation, and I feel even more guilty for being away for so long.

I close the shrine's door as carefully as possible, but the sound still bounces around off the trees. I stare at my boots as I walk across the stone walkway, the silence around me calming. I mentally reprimand myself for making such a vulnerable person feel so alone, and enter the portal without thought.

I'm so confused and absorbed in my self-disappointment that I forget the state of things in the real world. I walk straight forward from the portal's exit, and instead of being able to turn and hop from the hidden shelf, I am battered with several hundred pounds of water.

Fear seizes my throat; I try to step back, but I'm already being shoved to my knees by the weight of the falling liquid, soaking my clothes and making me heavier. I claw at the stone shelf's edge, trying to hang on, but the lip is slick, my forward momentum is pulling me forward and over the edge.

The first impact, my horizontal body with the roaring river's surface, stuns me, the pain of my body suddenly slamming flat into the depths, burning the entire front side of my body. The second impact of my head on a giant stone beneath the surfaces nearly knocks me out. Around me, the water is both red with blood, white with foam and bubbles, and pitch black with dirt and depth. I struggle sluggishly to the surface trying to breathe, and I break the surface momentarily. I gasp desperately for air, and I hear someone, I think Freya, screech in terror, and call for help, before my skull slams into the underside of the first bridge. All is black.

My lungs are burning, and I need air, but everything is so heavy. Even trying to twitch my finger feels like trying to raise houses. Suddenly, a lurch of energy slams into my head, and I flip onto my side.

I vomit up river water, murky with soil. After I retch the water from my lungs, I keep expelling, the remains in my stomach burning up my esophagus and stinking as it all mixes together beneath me, on a wooden surface. My eyes burn; I can feel dirt beneath the lids. I claw at them, trying to clean them, my body quaking with the cold and adrenaline.

"Daddy, is she okay?" a small voice sobs. I freeze and open my eyes; the entire town is around me, all with varying expressions of terror, panic, and concern. Nearest to me are the town's three children. "Daddy, is she going to be okay?" Cindy cries again.

"Get them out of here!" Ethel, who is behind me, says, with surprising severity and authority. Wilbur, who is often quite inscrutable, herds the three youngsters away quickly, uncharacteristic tears of worry streaking down his cheeks.

I take a moment to appraise everything around me. My clothes and hair are soaked, and I remember falling into the waterfall. I glance over at the Zephyr River; it is still foaming and raging, demanding I return to its deadly embrace. I shiver in fear.

I'm sprawled on Angelo's wooden porch in front of his home, on the edge of town. I'm sitting in a pool of river water and my on refuse. I look at the sky; the sky is orange and red, and I guess the time is just after five. I look at my neighbors in bewilderment, shaking with fear and realization of what I just escaped.

"I saw you fall into the river," Freya says, answering my question and wild gaze. Her eyes are wet with recently stopped tears, and her hair is tangled. "I screamed for everyone to try and get you out, but Ivan was the one who got you." I scan the crowd and find the teacher. He is the only other person who is soaked to the bone like me.

We stare at each other of a moment, and then with a heavy sigh, falls to his knees before me in exhaustion. "I was just watching to water from the dock by the windmill," he croaks. "Trying to see if I could find any fish I'd read about in the tide pools. I heard Antoinette screaming at me, and it was just so out of character for her that I looked up immediately." He looked away from me, haunting dark circles beneath his grey eyes. "The whole town was running at me from the town proper, and all of them were screaming different things at me desperately, but… Antoinette just keep pointing insistently at the river."

He rubs a large hand over his face, smearing mud down his expression, making him look more feral. "I…I saw your hat in the river first, the feather was sticking straight up from the surface. And then… I saw your pink coat, beneath the surface." His words cracked on the last word, and Ivan buries his face in his palms, assumedly to hide tears.

Dirk, my other best friend and Ivan's younger brother, places his hand on Ivan's shoulder comfortingly. " Ivan raced you down the river and lunged over the railing over there," Dirk continues for his brother, nodding his head at the wooden railing that frames Angelo's patio, which hangs over the river's edge. "The current was pretty strong, and he was kinda' underwater himself, but he held onto your wrist until the rest of us got here, and Felix and Claude helped pull you up and over the railing."

I blink dumbly, looking at the people around me. My giant adoptive family. They all look so worried about me. Daisy won't stop crying. Lloyd's turban is askew. Stuart's glasses are missing, somewhere on the path back to town. I try to tell them I'm okay, but things grow blurry. I feel my hair float around me as I feel gravity decrease around me.

"Someone catch her!" Claire shouts.

"Keep her out of her puke!" Raul squeaks.


	2. Regaining Consciousness

**purplpengy11, Whoa, a review that fast? I feel like HM stories aren't terribly popular on here, so I'm surprised and ecstatic to get feedback and encouragement so fast! Thanks!**

I would later be told by Dirk that after I passed out, Claude and Felix had carried my dead weight back to my farm house, although I didn't remember any of it. Little Lauren had attentively offered to bring in the chickens, sheep, and cow for me when she had overhead her father telling Nellie that I was unconscious, and I couldn't finish the farm work for the day.

I wake up, confused and disoriented. The dim light of late afternoon is filtering through the windows, filling my home with a warm and hazy glow, leaving me in a timeless inter-dimensional space where time doesn't exist.

"Geez, it's about time you woke up," someone snorts at my bedside.

"Get out," I wheezed in irritation at my best friend, flipping my back to him.

"Not a chance!" Dirk grins, hopping from the dining chair he'd pulled over from the dining table and bouncing on the mattress beside me. "Felix said to give you twenty four hour supervision until you woke up! I'm your designated babysitter." My whole body is tight, the muscles taunt beneath the skin. In my hair, the stink of river water is pungent. I can see on my hands and arms that my skin is several shades too dark to be normal; a layer of grim remains from my accident.

"How long?" I grunt, sitting up with a slight struggle.

"Well, you fell in yesterday evening, and it's about five thirty right now, so a little over a whole day," Dirk deduces, a thoughtful finger on his chin as his green eyes narrow beneath a furrowing brow.

"No way!" I choke. I begin to clamor from bed, panic in my heart; the crops need to be watered, the cows groomed, the sheep sheared, the chickens fed, the—

"Slow down, Gwen," Dirk chuckles, pushing me back into the sheets. "Everything's been managed. Cindy and Lauren came this morning and took care of the animals for you, and after a bit of argument as to how best to approach the situation, Ivan and I watered all the crops." I relax back into the pillow, grateful.

"Thank you, Dirk," I smile, glancing past him.

"Yeah, everyone came to check on you," Dirk grins, seeing me eye the pile of presents on my dining room table. "Kevin brought you a grasshopper, Claire and Nellie brought different soups, Marian brought a bouquet of flowers, Claude even brought a bottle of wine." I can't help but sigh with content; everyone came to see me.

The front door opens, and Lauren walks in nervously, her green and white dress spotted with filth. "Lauren, what are you still doing here?" Dirk asks in surprise.

"I…I stayed. Cindy got bored and left around noon, but…I knew someone had to bring all the animals back in," she mumbles, her hands wringing before her in apprehension.

"You stayed all day?" I croak, equally impressed as Dirk. The little girl nods, her purple eyes shining with anxiety. "Dirk, bring my bag," I cough, not taking my eyes off the eight year old girl. When my satchel is finally in my hands, I fumble through and yank out thirty pieces of gold.

"Oh, no!" Lauren yelps, the loudest she's ever raised her voice in front of me. "Please no, I'm fine! I just wanted to help you, Gwen. I don't need that." She tugs at the neckline of her dress nervously, eyeing my handful of gold almost fearfully.

"Lauren, please take it, you've been great help," I insist. We bicker for a moment, quiet stubborn child and quiet stubborn adult, but finally, after telling her that this could buy sweets at the next bazaar, she takes it from me, a shy, toothless grin of thanks on her face.

The front door opens, and Freya walks in, her bag full of work to do at home slung across her back. "Thank goodness you're alright," she breathes, her blue eyes alight. "When I visited this morning before work, you were still out." She throws her bag on the floor, tousles Lauren's hair in affection, and then sits elegantly beside Dirk on my bed. "Ugh! You reek! And your hair is a knotted mess! You look like a train wreck," she groans, her eyes narrowing at me.

"Thanks," I grumble. "You always know how to make me feel better." Freya giggles behind a small hand.

"Come on, let me help you take a bath," Freya coos, helping me from my nest. "You, go home, I can watch her for the rest of the night," she nods at Dirk.

"Sounds good, I need to stretch my legs anyway. I've been by her bedside all day," Dirk yawns, stretching. "See ya' tomorrow, Gwen. Come on, you," he says to Lauren, "let's get you home too."

"Wait, Lauren?" I call after the little pink haired girl. She turns back to me nervously, tugging at a long rose lock. "Would you like to come back tomorrow and help with the animals again? I could use some help for a while, until I feel well again." Her face shatters into the most open expression of joy I've ever seen on her.

"Yes, Gwen, I'd love too!" She cheers before running out the door that Dirk has held open for her. Outside, I can hear her cheering and whooping.

"Could you stop trying to make everyone happy for one second and worry about yourself for once?" Dirk teases, crinkling his nose in false disgust. I stick my tongue out at him defiantly. With that, my best friend closes the front door behind himself, and my other best friend gently helps me into the basin. She gently massages my scalp and scrubs my body, cleaning me as she hums a old tune. The water in the tub turns from clear to grey as the last physical reminder of my incident rinses from my body.

When we are finished, we eat the onion soup Claire brought for me. When I inquire about where my hat is, Freya regretfully tells me that it was lost in the river. I feel my mood darken; it had been a gift from a friend I'd left back in the city. I lay back down and tell Freya she can go home, that I'm feeling much better. She stubbornly denies that I'm capable of making that decision. She clears herself a spot on the crowded dining room table, and begins to work on the papers she'd brought home from the office. I flip over in irritated acceptance and fall asleep, the crickets chirping outside acting as a lullaby.


	3. Misconstrued Meal

The front door creaks open, and I wake up groggily, Freya curled up in bed beside me. Dirk shuffles in silently, grinning at me in greeting. I twist and look at the clock on the wall. It's 6:15am. I shake Freya awake, and she scrubs at her eyes blearily.

"Changing of the guard," Dirk whispers playfully. Freya grumbles grumpily and scoots from bed, her hair a tangled mess. She snatches her bag from the table and disappears into the bathroom. "Mornin', Gwen. How'd you sleep?" Dirk continues. I sit up and begin testing my body. Most my muscles aren't as sore as they had been the night before, and I felt refreshed after the bath.

"Great, I feel better," I yawn. I kick the blankets off and set about making Dirk and I breakfast. He jogs into the kitchen and begins helping me.

"Alright, guys, I'm heading off to work!" Freya calls from the front door. "I'll see you guys later!" We shout our goodbyes over our shoulders, and go back to frying eggs and flipping pancakes. Just as Freya is closing the door, I hear her greet someone before opening the door again. New footsteps clack on my wooden floors, and Freya closes the door behind the new visitor.

"Lauren, you're here awful early," Dirk remarks.

"Well, Gwen s-said that she needed help with the animals again…" the girl stutters, her unsure nature making her uncomfortable.

"Don't worry, you're alright, you've done nothing wrong," I smile, trying to not make her feel unwelcome. "But you don't have to get here at the crack of dawn. You can sleep in a little more, and come around eight next time, okay?" she offers a tiny smile and a tight nod. "Are you hungry?" Lauren leans a little around me, to see what Dirk is cooking still in the kitchen, and nods. "Well then, come along." I take her hand, and she wraps around my arm affectionately. I loved Kevin and Cindy as well, but I saw a younger version of myself in Lauren. She and I just got along very well.

Just as I finished pushing in Lauren's chair to the dining table and placed a clean plate before her, someone knocks on the front door. "Looks like I've installed a revolving door to my house," I mumble to myself. I open the door wide and Ivan steps in through the threshold. "Ivan," I blink in surprise. It's 6:45am, he should be headed into town.

"Good morning, Gwen," Ivan smiles down at me as he closes the door behind him.

"Hey, Ivan!" Dirk calls as he slides a steaming pancake onto Lauren's plate, waving with the spatula. "Glad you could make it! Lauren, don't eat too fast, you'll choke."

"Dirk," Ivan says in surprise. "I was wondering where you ran off to so early this morning." He pauses, and seems to take in the scene a little more deliberately. Dirk cooking in my kitchen, and Lauren chewing messily.

"Oh Lauren, honey, use a napkin," I sigh when the syrup sticks to her cheek. "Dirk, can you grab a napkin for her?"

"Got it!" Ivan's little brother responds from the kitchen. Ivan watches with an expressionless gaze.

"You couldn't find someone else to watch over Gwen today?" Ivan asks calmly as Dirk wipes at Lauren's face.

"I volunteered to do it," Dirk says absent mindedly, trying to clean the little girl thoroughly, although she tries to wiggle free.

"You watched her last night," Ivan says, a hint of irritation in his voice now.

"I know, but I wanted to see her anyway," Dirk grins, finally satisfied with the girl's cleanliness.

"I'm right here," I snap at the brothers.

"Hey, Ivan, did you hear something?" Dirk smirks playfully, looking past me purposely. "The wind, perhaps?" I yank off my shoe and chuck it at Dirk's head. He dodges it, laughing loudly, and returns to the kitchen.

"Idiot," I mumble under my breath. I turn back to Ivan and am surprised by what I see. His face is tight as he stares after his brother. When he notices that I'm examining him, he looks away and clears his throat, tugging at his purple bowtie. "You're going to be late for work," I remark.

"Yes, well, I told my students that I'd be late today," Ivan says, clearly still bothered by…something. "I, uh, wanted to make sure I had time to check on you today." He glances back to the kitchen where Dirk is cooking, and one could even say that it was a glare. I feel very confused; the brothers were so incredibly close, what was Ivan angry with Dirk about? "I have something to give you."

Ivan reaches into his bag and pulled out a red wrapped present. I grin up at him and take the package and begin tearing at the paper. "I put in the order late on Sunday night after I saw that you'd lost your other one. I picked it up yesterday and thought about dropping it off, but I'd talked to Stuart when he was walking back from here to the hotel. He'd just checked on you, and said you were still unconscious."

The last scrap of paper falls away. It was a new hat. It is a little different from my last one; the fabric colors were more subdued, and this one has a long, white feather sown into the brim. There are tiny roses embroidered on the sides. It isn't the one that my friend had gotten me, but it is beautiful, and I feel grateful and special for him to have noticed that I hadn't been able to keep my last one. I feel aware of the fact that he must've crawled home after saving me on Sunday, put in a custom order in the city, and had bought it just for me.

I look at him, my mouth open in shock, unable to communicate my gratitude. Ivan beams at my expression. "I, uh, wanted to give it to you when you were awake," he whispers, just for me to hear. He blushes a deep red and tucks his chin away from me, nervously peeking at his shoes as he avoids my eye contact. "I wanted to see your reaction." His mature, classy demeanor falls away, and he's a young school boy again, unsure and embarrassed.

"It's beautiful," I assure him, instantly shoving it on my head. He peeks up at me, then blushes deeper, and returns his gaze to the floor.

"You look lovely in it," he giggles. I'm stunned; who knew the refined tutor _giggles?_

"Gwen, get over here!" Dirk shouts at me from by the dining table. "You left all the breakfast making to me, and it's ready! Hurry up!" Ivan's sweet innocence disappears suddenly as he twists to glare at his younger brother again.

"Well, I'd better leave you and your little makeshift family to your meal," Ivan clips. What was that? Was that jealousy I heard in his voice? "Have a good day, Gwen." Ivan quickly opens the door, and leaves.

"Bye, older brother, whom I love dearly, and couldn't live without," Dirk snorts as he sits down to his plate. "What was that all about? He didn't even say bye to me! What am I, chopped liver?" I take my place at the third spot and begin eating the food Dirk had finished for us, my mind mulling with Ivan's strange behavior.

"That's a pretty hat," Lauren remarks as she finishes her last pancake.

"Thanks, Ivan just gave it to me," I reply, scarfing down my food.

"Yeah, it looks great on ya'," Dirk agrees with a nod of his head. I swallow the last sip of orange juice in my glass and slam the cup down on the table, pushing the teacher from my thoughts.

"Come on, we've all got work to do," I command, leading the way outside.


	4. Left Hanging

The first few days after my accident were awful. Every time I talked to someone, anyone, the first thing I received was a worried expression and a question as to how I was feeling. I understand it's just because everyone cares for me, but honestly, I'm accustomed to taking care of others, not others taking care of me. Even after I felt strong again, Lauren continued to return to my farm every weekday morning to help with herding and maintaining the animals for me. I showed her how to shear the sheep and milk the cows, and she loved it. Every day, she'd lead the animals outside, brush and cuddle them, then leave for several hours to play with her sister or Kevin. Around six at night, she'd return, bring the animals in for me, and I'd pay her 30 gold pieces for her days work.

I yank roughly on a stubborn weed that refuses to come from the earth. The one day that Ivan and Dirk watered the crops for me while I was asleep had taken a toll on my fields. They had overwatered them, and the floral pests had taken advantage and rooted themselves quickly. I tug again on the leaves with all my might, and the roots suddenly give under my strength. I cry out as I fly backwards onto my rear, a cloud of dust rising around me.

"Ha ha ha! That weed is really sticking it to you!" someone laughs from behind me. I turn and wipe the sweat from my brow to see Wilbur and Issac walking up the hill towards my farm, waving to me.

"It was a tough one," I agree, rising to my feet to meet them. Wilbur pats me affectionately on my back, and Issac pulls me into a gentle hug.

"How are you feeling today, Gwen?" Issac inquires, his kind eyes tight with concern. I squash down my irritation easily; I've always been quiet, and hiding my feelings comes second nature.

"Healthy as a horse," I reply steadily. The two men and I converse a little more, mostly about the windmills and the weather, before they disappear into the windmill on the western side of my farm to check the cogs.

I return to my gardening, and when I'm satisfied that all my cucumbers will grow unhindered, I walk to town. I greet each villager, giving my neighbors gifts as I make my exit to leave. I enter Angelo's house without knocking, and he's high on a ladder beside his developing sculpture of Felix, chipping loudly away at the wood. I consider calling loudly to him, but decide just to wait patiently.

"Gwen!" Angelo chirps when he finally sees me. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there." He scrambles down the ladder and places his hammer and chisel on the floor."How's it going?" He asks with a broad smile, dusting his splinter covered palms off on his legs.

"I'm well, I just wanted to come by and check on you, see if you needed anything," I explain straightforwardly.

"Yeah, I'm great, all things good here, captain," he grins, brushing a stray curly piece of hair from his forehead. I roll my eyes, mutter that I'm not his captain, and turn to leave. He pats me on the back with a laugh, and adds, "By the way, your new hat looks great," as I walk through the door.

I touch my hat tentatively as I make my way back to my farm, thinking about Ivan. He and I haven't talked in a few days; whenever I go looking for him after work, he is out of sight. Dirk told me he wasn't hanging around the house as much anymore. I'm worried, and I wonder if he's been avoiding me.

"Hey, look, it's Gwen! Hey, Gwen!" I glance up from my mental reverie, and see Nellie and Claire playing with their children by the Zephyr River. I stifle a shudder; since my accident, I haven't jumped over the river, and I haven't gone fishing. Although it's back to its lazy pace, I just can't steel myself to go near it. "Gwen, come play with us!" Kevin calls again, waving me over. I quickly hand the townspeople each of their daily gifts; a grasshopper for Kevin, an egg for Cindy, a toy flower for Lauren, and fish for both the mothers.

"Gosh, am I glad you're okay, Gwen," Kevin laughs as he kicks the yellow ball to me. "I thought you were dead!"

"Kevin!" Nellie gasps.

"You better watch your tongue, young man, or I'll give you a punishment even your father can't match," Claire threatens as I pass the ball to her.

"Ah, mom," Kevin groans, "I didn't mean anything by it."

"Yeah, we were super worried about you!" Cindy exclaims as she passes the ball to her mother. I smile silently to reassure everyone that I'm alright, and everyone perks up under my quiet response. Things were returning to normal. When Cindy remarks that she too likes my new hat, I reply that it was a gift from Ivan. Although Cindy sours at the idea of her schoolyard crush giving other girls gifts, and I explain that he and I are just friends, Nellie and Claire exchange poorly hidden grins. I must have blushed. I play with the five for another half an hour before looking at my watch.

"Lauren, it's about six," I call across the lawn.

"Okay," she calls back, before turning to her mother and saying, "I'm going to go help Gwen on the farm now."

"Geez, why do you like those stinky animals so much?" Cindy snorts loudly, shaking her head as Lauren comes to stand beside me. I can see the shy girl shrink beneath her sister's oblivious words. "They're so boring, and they take away your play time."

"I…I just like them," Lauren sighs, barely audible.

"Cindy," Nellie snaps, her usual sweet and relaxed demeanor hardening. "You treat your sister nicely, or you'll be in just as much trouble as Kevin." I gently grab Lauren's sleeve and tug her away as her sister received her mother's stern reprimand. We walk silently together, and after a few seconds, when we are out of sight of the others, she grabs my hand and places it on her hair. I pet her lightly, as I know she enjoys, and pull her close to me.

"You know she didn't mean to be cruel, dear," I say to the little girl as I stroke her long, pink locks.

"I- I know," she sighs, picking at a loose thread on her sleeve. Lloyd waves to us from his spot by the river as we pass by, and Lauren and I wave wordlessly back. I keep glancing down at her, but her face is still set in a dark expression. I scoop her up suddenly, and toss her onto my shoulders, my thick muscles from tilling the earth managing the task easily. She cries out in fear from being so high, so fast, but as I begin to charge in a winding path up the hill, making loud airplane sounds with my mouth, her cries turn to giggles. Far off, I can hear Lloyd's usual quiet chuckle boom. Lauren knocks my hat askew on my head as she grips my wavy blonde treads and yanks them to and fro, directing my path.

By the time we are back at my farm, my tongue is tired from vibrating, my legs are screaming for reprieve, and my scalp is throbbing, but she is out of breath from laughing so hard. I flip her down to the ground, and she bats at her hair quickly, trying to clear her face as she grins up at me. "Alright, soldier, get to work, we've got lots to do before sundown," I gasp, trying to get my air back. She giggles, but runs off immediately to take care of my animals. I water the crops for a second time today, and when we are both done, Lauren asks if I'll walk her home.

This surprises me; everyone here in town is like family, there's no one that would possibly harm her. The paths were well lit, and any large predators are frightened by the bustle of the town and the giant windmills. I agree anyway, and after only a few steps, she is tugging on my sleeve. I laugh quietly; so the real reason she wanted an escort comes out. I throw her on my shoulders again, my shy manners disappearing as I try to make the little angel laugh louder and louder. I charge down the hill obnoxiously buzzing my lips and tongue, spinning this way and that as she squeals.

We are "flying" down the lane when I see a surprising figure standing on the bridge into the main part of town. Ivan is looking into the water, with his elbows resting on the railing, deep in thought, when we come blundering into the area. His head whips around in surprise at our obnoxious arrival, and I can see his eyebrows rise in surprise when he sees it is the two shyest girls in town creating such noise.

I stomp to a stop, suddenly embarrassed. I can't explain my emotion, but I feel suddenly very aware of my visual stupidity, and Lauren's laughter and joy becomes less critical. I take her gently from my shoulders, and she is wiggling with guffaws.

"Hello, Lauren," Ivan smiles as we join him on the bridge. "Did you have a good day?"

"Oh, yes," she says breathlessly, her usually quiet voice louder than usual. "I played with my sister and momma and Kevin and his momma, and then I played with Gwen's sheep, they're so soft, and I flew on an airplane!" Ivan glances at me at the mention of an airplane, and I self-consciously fix my sideways hat and disheveled pink coat. "Look!" Lauren continues obliviously, holding out her earnings to her teacher. "I got 30 gold pieces today for working too!"

"Thirty whole pieces?" Ivan gasps theatrically, kneeling down to Lauren's short stature. "Whoa, you must be the richest person in the whole town!"

"You really think so?" Lauren asks, her purple eyes huge saucers at the idea.

"You bet I do," Ivan nods enthusiastically. "You'd better run home and show your mom!"

"She'll be so proud," Lauren nods, beginning to walk backwards to her house, but still talking to Ivan. "I've been saving all my money so I can buy sweets at the bazaar! Bye, Ivan! Bye, Gwen!" Lauren turns and sprints away then, disappearing around the far corner of Raul's store, her green petticoats flying behind her.

"Sorry that we interrupted you," I say uncomfortably as he straightens. I grow acutely aware of my windswept hair and soiled knees as he turns to me.

"Don't be," he replies, "it's good to see her so joyful. I worry about her sometimes. Nice to see your wearing the hat I bought you." Ivan's content grin fades, and a furrow in his brow replaces it as I hide my blush.

"What's wrong?" I ask. Ivan sighs and turns back to the river and leans on the railing, a deep sigh coming from inside him.

"I just got done with an argument with Dirk…I think that he's been the reason Kevin's tom foolery has worsened, and I scolded him. He denied having anything to do with it but….I really lost my temper, and I was much harsher than I should have been." I look away guiltily, although he doesn't seem to notice. Ivan has hit the nail right on the head. Just yesterday, Dirk and I had searched through a dead pile of leaves together, looking for the grossest bug we could find to give to the little boy. But I wasn't about to tell Ivan that. For some reason, the idea of Ivan viewing me just as childish and mischievous as his younger brother made me feel…unsettled. "I just feel terrible," Ivan sighed, rubbing his temple with two fingers.

"Sometimes stuff happens," I blubber unintelligently, instantly cursing myself for not coming up with something better to say. Ivan turns from the river and leans against the railing, looking at me.

"Are you trying to cheer me up, Gwen?" he chuckles, leaning closely to me. I feel my heart thud harder in my chest, and all I can manage is a small smile and a tilt of my head. "You're right, everyone loses their temper from time to time, well, except for maybe you," he continues, leaning a little closer to me. "The fact remains that I was still too harsh though. I'd better go apologize to Dirk." He pushes off the railing and closes the leftover distance between us, our bodies perhaps only a foot apart.

I can feel my pulse choke and the race as he gazes at me with those reserved, serene grey eyes. Breathing has become a new challenge, and I both want to run miles away and also close the remaining distance between us. ""Gwen, talking to you always makes me feel better," he whispers for only me, the singing of the river surrounding us as it slowly slips by. He reaches out, and tucks a stray hair from my cheek behind my ear, his fingertips grazing my skin. "Gwen, I…" I wait. He waits. I'm certain the whole world freezes and waits for him to continue.

Suddenly, the gleam in his rarely expressive, sincere eyes leaves and is replaced with the polite covering that he uses with everyone. He leans back, straightens his bow tie, and finishes with, "never mind". He bides me goodnight, turns and leaves.

I don't move for several years, I'm sure. I finally turn around and begin heading to my secluding farm, but my stomach is filled with crawling ants of anxiety, and I break into a sprint. I try to outrun my nervous energy, pumping my legs and arms in rhythm. When I finally fall into bed, my body is exhausted, but my brain is still racing with unfinished sentences and tender caresses.

 **For those readers who feel that the last scene is familiar, it is based off of Ivan's Blue Heart Event, and much of the dialogue is from the English translation of the game. I changed the wording a little, and gave it more context into the story though. Thanks for reading, the next chapter will be up soon.**


	5. Girl Gossip

Saturday brings rain. I go to the barn and spread feed for the chickens and lay out fresh fodder for my sheep and cows. Lauren will not be coming today, as the animals can't go out in the rain, and therefore, I'll be tending to them. I whisper to them quietly as I brush them down, calming them as they glance nervously about. Today is the second of Summer, and it hasn't rained here since the seven day storm. I'm anxious; water has unsettled me since my incident. I no longer fish, or go diving for sea urchins and ore, or even hop over the river. I ALWAYS use bridges now.

The barn door slams open and I scream. "Oh, lo siento, Gwen!" Enrique squeaks. "I have a present for you from the mayor!" Four horses trot in behind the short man, flicking their wet mane about, trying to rid themselves of the wet. "The mayor has already paid, all you have to do is pick one!"

Each animal is a different color. I look over each one carefully, respectfully avoiding direct eye contact with each creature. One of my cows nudges at the brown one curiously. The brown one is a male. "This one is the only mustang?" I ask carefully, eyeing his muscular form.

"No," Enrique smiles. "The only mustang here is this mare." He pats the black horse.

"I thought mustangs were only male?" I question.

"No, mustang only refers to a horse that is wild born," Enrique says with a shake of his head. "Females who aren't born in captivity are called mustangs as well."

"Well, I could use a man around the house," I smile at the brown horse before me. "I'll take this stallion."

"Actually, he's a gelding," Enrique chuckles. When I ask what the difference is, he explains that stallions can reproduce, but geldings are males that have been neutered.

"Seems like I have a lot to learn about horses," I grin good naturedly. "Thanks." Enrique bids me farewell and walks back out the barn door. When the brown horse tries to follow the others that line up behind Enrique, he dominantly shoves the horse's snout back, pushing the gelding back towards me. This happens several times, until the horse huffs in acceptance. The door closes, and now it's just me, the horse, my livestock and poultry.

"Hey there, pretty," I coo. I reach out my hand, and the horse shifts away from my palm. "Come here," I sing, trying to get closer to the male. He obstinately trotted to the far side of the barn. "Boy, your stubborn," I groan.

For the next two hours, I try to bond with the animal. He ignores all my tactics, refusing to let me touch him. The closest I get is when I feed him the horse feed Enrique gave me, and he is momentarily distracted. I try to sneak my hand onto his neck, but his head rounds on me, and he screams with surprising volume before trying to chomp on my wrist with his huge, blockish teeth. "Well, alright!" I shout back as he skitters away. "I'll leave!" I stomp from the barn, even more irritated than before. Between the nerve wracking rain and the stubborn steed, today wasn't my day.

I begin heading to walk to Dirk's house, seeking his carefree company and companionship, but as I reach out to grab the doorknob, I freeze. Ivan will be home today; it's the weekend, and the rain has everyone cowering in their homes. The chill water is snaking down my back, an ice serpent sneaking along my spine. I slowly lower my hand, doubt clouding my mind. My feelings for the tutor were growing complicated. I'm not confrontational, and I decided to avoid even coming face to face with my feelings.

I walked next door to Freya's, needing to be near someone. She was reading a novel and curled up on her purple sofa when I let myself in. she glances up and smiles, greeting me calmly. I make hot chocolate for us in the kitchen, and when she asks how I am, I admit to feeling frustrated and a tad lonely. "I understand, the rain makes me feel alone too," she nods as she reaches for her home phone. "Let me call the girls, we can all hang out."

Antoinette, Sherry, and Daisy arrive soon, each dripping wet and bitter about the wet weather. I make three more mugs, and we all sit about the living room, enjoying the warmth of the fireplace as Freya vents her week's issues. "Then she took all the credit for the project, claiming it was her idea, and not mine!" she growled, staring angrily into her now lukewarm cocoa.

"That's just awful," Sherry sighs, tugging on a red string of hair from her spot by the fireplace, where she was perched on a dinner chair.

"Why didn't you just tell your manager about her sly work?" Antoinette growls, her eyes narrow.

"She's been flirting with Cray," Freya moans. "If I tried to tell him, he'd just think that I was jealous of his beloved or something."

"That's really rough," Daisy pouts. Antoinette sat beside Freya on her right side, and Daisy and I sat on the floor between Sherry and the purple couch the others were on. Daisy is laying down, her head in my lap. I'm stroking her golden curls absentmindedly as I nod in agreement. "I'm sorry you had to go through with that."

"It's not your fault," Freya offers with a small smile. The conversation drifts to Sherry's budding romance with Lloyd, which I didn't even know existed. Hearing the girls giggle about it makes me feel better though. I've been worried that he might be interested in me, and I'm glad to hear our relationship is platonic. I don't know how to handle a man. What do you _do_ with one? Talk? Hug? Do you just water it and hope it will bloom?

"By the way, Gwen," Daisy interjects, twisting to look up at me from my lap, "I like your new hat." I touch it, as if realizing I'm wearing it.

"Thank you," I say quietly. "Ivan gave it to me." Silence follows, and I look between each girl, waiting for someone to respond.

"Ivan," states Antoinette. I can see a smirk trying to tug at her thin lips.

"Yes, Ivan," I reply emotionlessly, turning to return her gaze. "I lost my hat in the river, and he got me a replacement."

"Well, that was awful nice of him to notice that you'd lost it," Freya chuckles from her seat on the couch.

"Nothing special, anyone would've done it," I counter, feeling my voice raise in pitch a little.

"I suppose so," Sherry grins. "However, I believe there's more to it."

"Do you like him, Gwen?" Daisy chirps. I groan, letting the others see my frustration. Sherry chuckles silently behind a palm.

"Quit avoiding the question," Antoinette demands. I shrug, saying he's nice enough. When I don't elaborate, I switch the subject to Daisy's secret crush on Angelo. She burns bright red and tells me to be quiet, as though the entire room didn't already know how she felt for the artist. She sits up from her place in my lap, hiding her face behind her hands as Freya makes kissy noises and teases her.

I rise from my spot and begin collecting empty mugs. Before Sherry can offer her assistance, Antoinette leaps up and begins helping me. We juggle to the kitchen and carefully place the ceramic pieces in the sink before we begin scrubbing them. "Thanks for the help," I nod to her.

"No problem," she shrugs. A few moments pass, and Daisy's loud, open laugh chimes from the living room.

"I'm surprised you came, knowing there would be so many people," I mention. Both Antoinette and I were quiet, but where I was still friendly, she was often reserved.

"I've been more interested in talking to people lately," she admits, scrubbing with a yellow sponge at the chocolate that was stuck to the rim of the mug. "I used to shut everyone out, but you've changed that, Gwen." I chance a glance at her, and when I catch her purple eyes, I worry that I might've angered her. She smiles at me genuinely, and I return it with a smile of my own. We finish the dishes, and return to where the others are sitting.

It's late when Sherry looks out the window. "It's gotten awful late," she remarks. "I ought to head home."

"No way I'm going out there," Daisy snorts. "It's pouring!" She tugs at a golden curl protectively.

"Just stay for the evening," Freya offers. "I haven't work in the morning, and I have plenty of room." I first try to argue, but Freya convinces me the farm will be fine for the evening. The animals are fed, and the crops won't need watering until the morning. Freya and Sherry tug Freya's bed into the living room as each of us girls pick out a spot for the evening. I curl up on the couch with Sherry, and Daisy and Antoinette make tiny nests of blankets on the floor by the fire place. The rain is pattering on the roof above us, a tiny symphony singing us to sleep.

 **This chapter is based off a random event that can be triggered in game called "Girl Gossip". Hope you enjoyed!**


	6. Testing the Water

Emiko was delighted with the mint I brought her the next day. When she asked me what it's function was, I stuttered to come up with an answer. "It…smells…good." She took a questioning whiff off of one of the leaves, and squealed with delight at what she found.

"It _does_ smell good!" She agrees, snuggling the herb to her cheek. She sniffs again, wiggling with excitement, and asks me what I do with it. I explain that I use it in teas and perfumes, sometimes even to spice up recipes, or make potpourri. I then have to explain what tea, perfumes, and potpourri. She enjoys how I struggle to find meaning in the things I take for granted. She smiles endearingly, and I begin to relax in the stillness of her presence, of her world.

After my stutters of confused reasoning, I tell her I have to go tend my crops. She nods understandingly before turning back to her altar, and chants quietly, wisping burning sage through the air. I exit to portal and carefully peak around, trying to see if anyone will see me sneaking from behind the waterfall. I run to my farm when the coast is clear and begin watering the crops, whistling a slow tune. I then rush to care for my animals before shoving all my merchandise into my bag and dashing to the bazaar.

By the time I arrive at the bazaar grounds, countless of patrons are milling around, squeezing past one another as vendors hawk their wares. I shuffle through the masses, muttering unsought apologies before stumbling behind the sheltering counter of my stall. My hard work was paying off, and the bazaar of Zephyr Town was now the best in the continent. A small town of less than forty in population brought in thousands of customers each weekend.

I grope into the bag blindly and start slamming items onto the counter when I hear someone tapping on the counter above me. "I'm not open yet," I huff as I straighten up. Ivan's cool, grey eyes meet mine, and I instantly wish to just crawl out of sight and pretend I'm not here.

"I sure hope you don't usually greet customers in such a manner," he chuckles, an elegant hand placed on a narrow hip.

"No, of course not," I manage, trying to straighten every article of clothing at once. I am confused at my instinctual reaction; this was just Ivan, he'd seen me covered in mud and animal feces before. Why was I acting to nervous? "I have something for you," I add, taking a moment to dip back down to my bag and take a steadying breath before gripping the glass bottle. "This is for you."

His eyebrow shoot up in surprise as he reaches for the herb perfume I offer. "Wow, is this herb perfume?" He gasps. He uncorks the vial, takes a whiff, and moans with delight, sending shiver up my spine. Why was his voice so wonderful? "This is my favorite! Thank you very much, but what on earth is it for?" I wipe at imaginary sweat on my brow to hide the deep breaths I take to steady myself.

"Just for everything you've done these past few months," I reply, shrugging. "What with the hat and crop tending while I was sick, and pulling me from the river."

"Gwen, anyone would've done that," he grins down at me. I feel something shrink inside of me at his tone. It's almost patronizing, like I'm a child being unreasonably silly or dramatic. I try not to bristle in irritation.

"Yeah, you're right," I nod. There was nothing special here. "Now if you please, I have work to do." Ivan's grin falls away momentarily, and his sheltered grey eyes are unshuttered for a moment, revealing something I didn't expect to see: hurt.

"Of course," he agrees with a blink, his calm composure returning. "I shouldn't have disturbed you." He backs away from me into the crowd, melting into the ocean of congested bodies swarming by. I turn back to selling my items, but at the edge of my thoughts I can feel him lurking, always on my mind.

At seven, I begin to pack up as the grounds drain of people. I sold a lot today, over 120,000 gold pieces richer. My now empty bag hangs loosely at my side as I begin heading home. As I'm about to exit through the archway leading into town, I see Raul struggling with packing up his own stuff. "Need some help?" I ask. He nods gratefully and begins to explain which seeds go into which box. The seed bags are huge and heavy, and by the time we nail the last box shut, we are both sweating profusely.

"Thanks, Gwen," Raul sighs, leaning on a stack of crates. I open my mouth to reply when a sweet giggle catches my full attention. Ivan strolls by with Marian, deeply engrossed in a conversation that seems to soak up all of his energy. She smiles at him, her whole face lighting up with glee as she places a gentle hand on his bicep.

I slip off of the crate I was sitting on and my toe slams home into a sharp box corner. I suck in a pointed breath to keep myself form shouting with pain as I hope on one foot, cradling the assaulted one. "Oh, hello there, Gwen," Ivan chuckles, eyeing me critically. I glance up at him, not bothering to hide my flushed face as our eyes meet. Surely I'm just red due to pain.

"We are heading into town," Marian smiles, closing her eyes as she tilts her head. I can't help but notice how beautiful she is. What an attractive couple they make. "Care to join us?" I nod and begin to gather my bag and a few things I spilled.

"You alright there, klutz?" Raul hoots as he rocks back on the crate he is sitting on.

"When are you going to confess your feelings to Marian?" I snap quietly and uncharacteristically, both my toe and pride still sore. Raul blinks in surprise before smirking down at me from his rural throne.

"When are you going to tell Ivan?" He hisses back. We glare at each other before I roll my eyes and tell him I'll see him tomorrow. He waves with a grin and begins loading his boxes onto a trolley as I fall in line with the others. They talk animatedly to each other about the day's work as I listen silently, feeling both content just being a listener, but also frustrated for reasons I can't explain. They included me in their conversation, and I either smile or shake my head in response to what they say.

We reach the café and Marian leaves us with a warm farewell before disappearing into the building. I begin heading to my part of town, to the far northwestern part, when Ivan inquires what I'm doing now. I need to get back to the farm and bring in the animals for the evening and give the crops another drink; I tell him I have nothing to do. He wordlessly leads me back towards the hotel, and we walk in companionable silence while my heart thunders in my ears. He's so close, and occasionally our sleeves brush. What on earth could be making my heart race so?

My stomach drops when he walks onto the dock by the easternmost windmill, just south of Stuart and Ethel's hotel. He turns back to me and gestures for me to join him. Cold sweat zips down the side of my neck, causing a shiver of panic to run the length of my body. He waves me closer to him again, and I shake my head vigorously, my medium length dirt blonde locks flying wildly.

No. Anything but water.

"Come here, Gwen," he calls to me. I quake visibly, and begin taking a few steps back, away from him and the tranquil river. He appraises me emotionlessly, before sitting down on the edge of the platform, his legs dangling over the lazy water. "You know, I've been doing some research on fish," he says. "Specifically on the species in this area." He turns his head from me and looks out over the river, and his voice is instantly quieter, his word no longer projecting towards me, but away from me. Part of me wants to turn and leave, to just go home and take care of the things that need tending, but an even larger part of me commands me to stay. Furthermore, that larger part of me drags my stiff feet a little closer to him, so I can hear what he is saying easier.

"Fishing is interesting to me," he continues. "It requires so much patience, but also so much skill. A fisherman must alwa…." His words trail off, and I struggle closer to hear him again. "….ut my mother used to bring home fresh trout regularly. Dirk would come running form his room, and…" His words are lost again, and every cell in me strives to hear him again. "….of course, he was just a tot then. I bet he hardly remembers that, or her records. She had such lovely music, and ke…." I wonder why I can't hear him but I hardly care, just as long as I hear him again.

"….I've never gone myself though. What's your favorite fish species?" he asks. No, he whispers, for he had lowered his voice steadily over time, and without realizing it, my desperation to hear his sweet voice had dragged me out and onto the dock. I look down, and between the planks, water shines beneath me.

Panic rises. I feel my joints lock in fear as I realize that solid land is yards, seemingly yards, away. A strange, keening noise rips from my vocal chords, an animalistic whine that sounds like a tortured creature. My heart is beating so fast that I can't tell one pump from another, and my eyelids grow heavy. The world is darkening, blackening, and I can't see anymore….

"Gwen." Ivan's voice snaps me back to reality, my dizziness instantly retreating, the light headedness fading. "I asked you, 'What's your favorite species of fish?'" His grey eyes are all I can see. He's a tether, and I'm an abandoned kite, wheeling through the sky, but when I'm tied to him, not even the strongest gust can pull me.

"The Masu Salmon," I choke.

"Why?" He asks immediately.

"Versatility," I manage. "It can be prepared so many different ways."

"Such as?" I begin to rant about the virtues of this specific breed, and slowly, the apprehension fades away. The desperate need to stare into his eyes lest I faint fades, and I can feel my body relaxing. I begin to even look around, into the river's depths, and my body language changes. His smile widens and widens as I grow more and more comfortable, and his encouragement only emboldens me. After I'm finished blathering, I sigh, relieved, and sit beside him on the docks edge, my shoes inches from the surface.

"You're terrible," I add, huffing in irritation.

"I just noticed you avoiding the water since Spring," Ivan grins as he gazes back out into the distance. He removes his purple overcoat and places it gently behind us before his slim fingers undo his bowtie with practiced ease. His white dress shirt and olive vest remain in place as he undoes the top button of his shirt, instantly looking relaxed. We chat about everything and anything, my pink sweater eventually joining his, discarded behind us in the late Summer heat. The sun was down, and the moon's gentle glow made everything shine white.

"Well, it certainly has grown late," Ivan smiles, leaning back on his hands and beaming at me. I check my watch; it is 11:18. "Time flies when you're having fun," he chuckles. We stare at each other, and his face…his gaze is so raw. Dirk's older brother was always so polite and professional, and I am floored by the untamed emotion his features show. Such…admiration?...Adoration?

His attention makes me nervous. I push back a wisp of hair behind my ear, and the spell is broken. "My humblest apologies," Ivan says, shaking his head. "I must be more fatigued than I thought." He rubs his face with both of his hands. We stand, and he stoops, grabbing both our outer garments. He hands me my sweater, throws his coat back on, and offers me his elbow. I take it shyly, and we walk to town like that, my arms weaved through the crook of his. In two years, I had never felt dainty until now. Is it the warmth of the air, or of his body, that makes me sweat?

He drops me off at my front door, and I watch him through the peep hole as he disappears back into town. He finally disappears from sight, and I sigh happily and begin to undress for the night. Something falls out of my sweater's pocket, and I kneel to discover that it's Ivan's bowtie. Strange, I don't remember putting it in there.

I consider running after him to return it, but decide against it; I was already in my yellow night gown. I clamor into bed in exhaustion, and as I go to throw the thin piece of fabric in my night stand's drawer, something compels me to do something else. I raise it to my face, and inhale deeply. Its scent is extremely pleasing to me. It smells like soap and library books, pen ink and parchments, and...something else. I can't help but giggle with uncharacteristic, unsuppressed glee as I throw myself back into my pillows. He'd put on the perfume I got him.

 **The fishing scene was inspired by Ivan's Black Heart Event, with my own twist into the plotline. Thanks for reading!**


	7. A Bolder Approach

**Sorry to any readers who have been keeping up with this story and found the sudden lack of updates irritating. I've started working a summer job that I'm already working 45+ hours a week at. Please, continue your patience.**

I handed Dirk the wrapped red present for his birthday, a huge grin on my face. "Wow, is this for me?" he exclaims, his face breaking into a great big grin. "Thanks, Gwen!" Time in the slow town of Zephyr passed quickly. Before I knew it, Summer had passed into Fall, and Fall passed into Winter. I kept diligent track of my calendar, and was able to give everyone a proper gift, something I hadn't been able to afford the year before. Now, snow was on the ground, and all my crops were dead.

Lauren maintained her job as my stable hand responsibly, and when the weather was clear enough for my animals, she would heard them outside for me. Everything was frozen still, like the whole world was waiting for something momentous to happen.

I stroll into town, my breath freezing before my face into a tiny puff of fog. It is late in the evening, and I've greet all the townsfolk today except for Dirk and his brother, who for a couple of seasons now I've felt myself drawn to. Today is Winter 14th; Winter Harmony Day. I took time to bake every young man in town a chocolate treat in appreciation of everything they do for me the night before, and everyone but the siblings had received theirs from me today.

I let myself in without knocking, and the house is all dark, save for the living room, which is bathed in a warm, orange light from the crackling fire place. Dirk, who is sitting with his back to me on the sofa, flips around to see me. "Gwen! I was wondering when you'd get here!" He laughs. "I've been expecting my treats all day, and you've kept me waiting."

I stuff my hand down into my bag and pull out the little purple plastic bag I made for my best friend. "You're a spoiled brat," I smile, chucking the bundle at him as hard as I can. He catches the package clumsily and tears it open to peer inside to the chocolate cookies within.

"But ya' know," Dirk says with a laugh, "I know why you kept me waiting all day. Saving the best for last, huh?"

"More like trying to avoid the worst," I smirk back. He reaches over and punches my arm, and our playful relationship's common wrestling match begins. He punches my arm, I knock off his hat, and before I know it, Dirk's arms are around my waist, hauling me over the back of the grey couch. I squeal in surprise and humor, but freeze when I hear someone clear their throat from the corner of the room.

"Good evening, Gwen. It was nice of you visit Dirk." Ivan steps from the dimly lit corner by his mother's record player, his eyes tight. Dirk's arms are still around me as I look into his grey eyes, which seem pained.

"I was wondering if you were just gonna' stand there like a statue, bro," Dirk grins, releasing his hold of my waist and shoulders only to reposition himself so that he was laying down, his head in my lap. "You've been kinda' down all day; did you really miss Gwen that much?" Ivan chokes, and turns away, and my face flushes with embarrassment. I feel like boxing the little punk in the ear. Several months ago, I'd told Dirk and Freya about my strong and developing feelings for the teacher, and they'd kept their mum loyally. However, this was the first time that Dirk had even hinted to me that maybe, just maybe, Ivan felt something for me too. I'd been noticing his jealous glances, his sweeter smiles, his lingering presence, but he hadn't told me if he truly felt for me, or if I was just a silly little girl, all of it in my head.

Dirk slapped the purple sack on my chest, drawing my attention from Ivan's clear discomfort and what it might mean for how he feels about me, to him. "Feed me," Dirk grins, closing his eyes and opening his mouth wide. I untie the package grab all the cookies at once, and shove them roughly down his throat. "Feed yourself," I chuckle as he chokes, shoving his head off my lap roughly. I stand and straighten my clothes, stumbling towards Ivan, who is kneeling on the ground, flipping through his mother's records.

"Ivan, I have something for you too," I state, digging about in my sack as he straightens from his crouch. I yank out a Party Chocolate Cake, one that slaved over for two hours to bake. I hear Dirk gasp behind me as I present my offering to his elder brother. "For you, Harmony Day," I mumble, suddenly regretful and uncomfortable.

Ivan blinks at the beautifully iced cake, his face blank and impregnable. "Why did HE get a cake?" Dirk shouts angrily behind me, crossing his arms. "He doesn't even like sweets!" My uncomfortable feeling intensifies; this was a terrible idea. I shouldn't have ever tried.

"It's the thought that counts, Dirk," Ivan grins at me, taking the cake gently with a nod of thanks. I can't tell in the low light- the only glow comes from the flickering fireplace- but I think his face is red. He straightens his bow tie uneasily, and excuses himself to the kitchen, assumedly to put my gift on the table. In his absence, Dirk asks about my day, and I tell him about it, as well as how tired I am; chasing down all the young men in town was a challenge. Dirk teased me, saying maybe us female farmers weren't made of tough stuff, and I punched him roughly on the arm, just enough to hurt him a little. "You two are just peas in a pod," Ivan smiles as he enters the living space again. His eyes are tight, and I regret the comradery he's seen between me and his younger brother. "What are you two kids up to now?'

"I'm gonna' walk Gwen home," Dirk smiles and throws his arms around my shoulder as I try not to let my embarrassment show. I didn't want to be thought of as a kid; I wanted to be thought of as a woman. "She's feeling tired." Ivan bids me a quick goodnight before stalking down the long hall and out of sight into his bedroom. Dirk walks me back to my farm, and I fall asleep restlessly, worried that the gift I gave Ivan didn't truly show my intentions.

A few days past, and I was sitting on the frozen rivers edge, staring at the sparkling glass surface, enthralled with the beauty. Just beneath the solid water, dark shapes darted past, fish busying themselves with trying to survive the cold. I watch their desperate dance, hypnotized, completely taken in. When Dirk plops down beside me, I nearly scream in fear and surprise.

"God, he's so incredibly stupid!" he shouts, his green eyes narrow as he stares at Lloyd's house far below.

"What happened?" I inquire when my heart relaxes enough to start beating again.

"My idiot brother asked me this morning when I was asking you to the Starry Night Festival!" I crinkle my nose in distaste. "Exactly!" Dirk agrees upon seeing my expression. "For being a teacher, he's quite dim witted!" Dirk throws himself back, his violet coat acting as a barrier between the frozen dirt and his body. A puff of frost rises around him, and I shake my own head in irritation.

"He still believes that there is something between you and I," I sigh, tossing a small rock angrily at the river. It bounces off the frozen currents, leaving a chip where there had been impact.

"Yeah, but the only thing between us are wet willies and wrestling."

"Childish," I smirk at him, my insult light and playful.

"Yeah, but it's what makes us get along," he grins back. We wait a moment, each of us enjoying the scenery and the almost imperceptible sound of the river rushing beneath the frozen surface.

"So, when are you going to ask Antoinette to be your date?" I ask, trying to hide my grin as I stare straight ahead. In my peripheral, I see Dirk's head snap in my direction. He slowly sits up, never taking his gaze off of me. I struggle to maintain my mask of neutrality, my lips wiggling as I fight the urge to laugh. "Oh, please. Anyone with one eye could see the way you look after her."

"Well, I dunno, I was hoping tonight," he finally admits. I stand and tug on his collar, pulling him to his feet with me, and lead him to my farm wordlessly. He complains and inquires as to where we are going and why, and I whistle carelessly in response. When we reach my house, I tell Dirk to wait for me outside while I plunge into my massive storage chamber.

I return with a handful of Magic Blue Flowers, picked and stored before the Winter frost had settled in. "Here, these are her favorite flowers. It'll help." Dirk smiles graciously as he takes them, a wordless thanks floating between us. We walk to town together, but go separate ways, he to find Antoinette, and I to find his brother.

I find Ivan chatting with Freya on the easternmost bridge, near the hotel. Freya must have told a joke, because he is chuckling, his slender shoulders rising and falling with each chortle. I join them on the bridge, my heart beginning to race as I get closer to him. Freya turns at the sound of my resounding footsteps on the wooden bridge and her face lights up with a smile when she sees me. "Gwen! We were just talking about you!" I raise my eyebrow questioningly, and Freya giggles sweetly. "All good things, all good things! I was just telling Ivan what great support you've been to me this past year, and how glad I am that you moved to Zephyr Town."

"Yeah, I'm glad I came here too," I agree quietly. I try to stop myself, but I glance at Ivan when I say this before returning my attention to Freya. Us three talk for a few, then Freya excuses herself, saying her day at work exhausted her. She turns her back to Ivan to return to the town proper, and winks at me, mouthing _good luck_ as she passes me by.

Ivan smiles at me, and I can't help the huge grin that forces its way onto my face as I stare back at him. "Well, you seem awful happy," Ivan begins. "Did Dirk finally ask you to accompany him to the Starry Night Festival?" For the first time ever, I allow the amount of frustration and yearning I've been withholding the past seasons show on my face as I groan and turn away from him, leaning out over the bridge's railing. "What? What did I say?" Ivan asks, bewildered. Had I ever been this honest about my feelings in front of him before?

"No, he hasn't, and he won't be, because he wants to take Antoinette as his date," I growl back, glaring at the frozen water below.

"Oh," Ivan mutters, tugging at his bowtie nervously, unsure as to why my demeanor changed so suddenly. "You seem…upset with me."

"Yes, well, it's not like I've been trying to drop hints for months about how I feel for you, and waiting to see if you'd pick up on them," I huff, rolling my eyes. He shifts his weight between his two feet, uncertain of how to respond. This amount of frustration is new to me; I'm usually such a mild person, relaxed and going with the flow. Now, I could feel all the hope and anger and frustration from the past months compounded into one moment. It was both empowering and terrifying.

"I'm… sorry if you feel as though I've been…" Ivan stumbled over his words, his face screwing up endearingly as he struggled to form a sentence. I watch him flounder, interested that for once, the teacher didn't have an answer, and that myself and my desires were his equation to solve.

"I'll forgive you if you go to the festival with me tomorrow night," I offer, not wanting the momentum of the moment to get away from me. He blinks at my uncharacteristic boldness. He nods at me, giving me his answer. "It's a date then," I smirk. His lips split into a grin.


	8. Starry Night Festival (Slight Lemon)

**A disclaimer for my more sensitive readers; the ending of this chapter will have slightly sexual themes at the end, and will hint vaguely at masturbation. This language isn't graphic, but just for further warning, one of the chapters in this story will be a lemon, and that chapter will be extremely explicit, with crude language and frank themes. That chapter will also be labeled, however, this chapter does have slightly sexual content. You've been warned!**

I fuss with my hair in the mirror, trying to ensure all the stray strands are tamed. With an aggravated sigh, I finally just shove the hat Ivan bought onto my head, deciding I don't have time to play silly games. I'd lost track of time working with the animals today; yesterday, in the late afternoon, after I'd returned from asking Ivan to attend the festival with me, a snowstorm had struck. Lauren had been unable to bring in the livestock, and I hadn't been able to see through the whitewash of pelting snow. As a result, one of the calves was sick, and she hadn't done well all day today. The rest of my animals were adults, and had fared better, but Yula fell ill.

Most of my day was watching her, and making sure she grew healthier throughout the day. I'd given her medicine, but I felt terrible, and lavished her attention from sun up until sun down. Before I'd known it, I only had half an hour to get to the Café. I whistle, and Stubborn, my hard headed stallion, trots from the barn to me. We race to the town center, and I leap from his back in a jogging dismount. I click my tongue, his trained signal to return home, and turn to rush in the door; I'm nearly late.

My hand reaches for the shiny brass knob and… I freeze. My heart is racing, and suddenly the last thing on earth I want to do is walk through the doorway. Every muscle in my small body is tense, and I have half a mind to turn around and go back home, save myself from the stress and anxiety of this date. I could tell Ivan that I got sick, real sick, and I had been forced to stay in bed.

"Hey," sighs a tense voice behind me. Antoinette nervously shuffles up to me, eyeing the handle as if it were a viper. "So Ivan asked you, huh? You must be excited."

"Actually, I'm thinking about turning around," I admit, glaring at the door with as much venom as she.

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing, until I saw you out here," she grumbles, tugging at the braided ribbon in her hair. After another moment, she adds, "It's still not too late for the both of us to just slip away." I look at my watch, and it is 8:30pm.

"Yes, it is," I say, mostly to myself; I was in too deep to hurt Ivan like that now. Without giving myself another second to worry, I twist the knob and throw the door wide open. Warm orange light pours over the two of us, instantly warming away our anxiety and fear. We step in, and are met with the sounds of boisterous laughter, clinking dishes, and passionate conversation.

"Gwen!" Freya sings as Antoinette clicks the door back into place behind us. Joan and Freya are both in the café kitchen, grabbing themselves plates of food. Marian is nodding to something that Dirk is saying while Marian and Ivan listen inattentively.

At the mention of my name, Ivan's stormy eyes immediately jump to me. He stands straight from his chair, causing the wooden legs to squeal against the floor. He rushes to me and stops just in front of me, hardly a breath of air between us as he gazes into my eyes with a tight and worried brow. Dirk calls his date over to him, and Antoinette leaves our side to greet him. Ivan doesn't touch me, but the intimate and private look he was giving me was as personal as a caress.

"I was so worried…" he loses his words, his unblinking and intense eyes searching mine. I feel a tingle thrill up my spine, trying to edge me closer to him and close the distance between us. I try to steady myself, only to find the room is tilting. His hand shoots out and wraps gently about my waist, pulling me upright again. "Gwen, breathe. You've got to breathe, are you feeling alright?"

I blink hazily, leaning heavily on him for both support and the craving of his proximity. "I…I don't feel too well," I wheeze, finding irony that the excuse I had only moments ago thought of using to get out of this evening was now what I was using as a reason to touch him.

He leads me to his seat and placed me as if I were a glass doll before rushing to the kitchen and grabbing me a drink. "Boy, is he moving fast," Freya smirked as she sat with her dinner plate beside me. I pined for where his hand had pressed against my ribs, the empty spot feeling suddenly cold as ice.

Ivan comes back, his brow still clenched in worry, as he offered me a mug. I sip the hot chocolate slowly, trying to regain my bearings. The room is very warm, a burrow of splendid scents and warmth in the dead of winter. The fireplace in Joan and Marian's room roars, spilling heat into the house and filling it to the brim with a welcoming aura. The feast, undoubtedly prepared by the grandmother and granddaughter, wafts wonderful spicy and savory scents about, taunting and teasing even the fullest of stomachs.

Ivan takes the chair on my other side, his eyes never leaving my face as he watches me slowly absorb the warmth of the mug. His large, elegant hand in on my thigh, and I struggle to drink the hot chocolate, and not inhale it. His smooth lips are tight with concern, his grey eyes a ashy storm as he watches me, assessing how I'm feeling.

I can't handle this; I feel that I'm either going to explode or my heart might stop. I can't live like this, both so frightened and excited that even breathing becomes a trial. Just as I think my heart will arrest, things become…easier. By no means do I grow use to, or at ease, with the gorgeous creature before me; I believe such a thing is impossible. However, I think my body knew it was going to expire if it didn't change its level of function instantly. For the very sake of not dying, not lungs begin to pull air easier, and my heart slows to a slightly bearable rate, although I loose no novelty and ecstasy from him touching me.

His whole body grows more relaxed as my own body begins to calm. His squeezed facial muscles slacken as a relieved, polite smile takes place of his fearful expression. "Ivan, you've gotta' relax and enjoy the party, man," Dirk smiles across the table from us. Antoinette has been pulled onto his lap, and although her red cheeks are unmissable against her snow skin and blue hair, the half lidded expression she wore showed how pleased she was. "You hovering over her like that is what's probably making her so stressed." Ivan leans back at his brother's words, scooting his chair closer to mine. His hand shifts off my thigh as he throws his arm around my shoulders, and although I bask in the feeling of leaning against his body, my leg wants him to touch it again. Why can't all of us touch, all the time?

He raises an eyebrow at me, asking without words if such a forward approach is acceptable. All I can do is beam up at him, my joy uncontainable. We relax against each other, listening to Dirk's wild tales with the others, my heart racing but no longer trying to detonate.

After I finish the mug of hot cocoa that he brought me, I rise to grab a plate of food. Ivan stands up also, shadowing me to the kitchen, where he too grabs himself dinner; he'd waited for me before eating. We sat back down and began eating beside Freya, who chats easily with us about how her work at the office is going.

"Everyone," Dirk calls, commanding all the attention. "My brother and I have a surprise for all of you!" I raise an eyebrow at Dirk, who just smiles secretively. I turn my questioning gaze to my date, who just winks a smoky eye at me before rising. The two brothers go to a cabinet in the corner of the room and throw open the doors. With some team effort, and a few grunts of strain, the two haul the heavy record player that Ivan's mother left to them out.

Everyone cheers and begins to clap happily. "How did those two get that in here without us seeing it?" Joan whispers to Marian. Marian just smiles and shrugs. Ivan reaches back into the cabinet's darkness, selects a sleeve, pulls the vinyl free, and places the needle gently on top of it.

The Café is filled with lively jive music. The swanky saxophone pulls everyone to their feet, and immediately Dirk and I begin pushing tables and chair aside to clear a dance floor. Dirk immediately pulls Antoinette onto the dance floor, and the unlikely pair begins swinging, Dirk throwing her up and about, over his shoulders and in tight turns. The rest of us clap out a beat, laughing at the breathless look on Antoinette's face.

I turn to return to the kitchen, and Ivan follows me dutifully. When I pour myself a glass of peach wine, he bites his lip in worry. "Are you sure it's a good idea for you to drink? You weren't feeling very well earlier," he insists. I take a long sip of the sweet liquid and relish the taste and instantly warm sensation as it slides down my throat. It's been months since I last let loose and relaxed; maybe the Wine Festival was the last time.

"Yes," I reply coolly, sighing deeply with ease. "This is a very good idea." He smiles and pours himself a glass too before walking back with me to where Freya and Marian were now dancing together in the center. Ivan whispers in my ear, tickling it, asking if I'd care to dance, and I shake my head with a grin; I enjoyed the attention being on others and just watching. Ivan finishes his glasses before me, and when Marian and Freya finally leave the center, gasping for air between their laughter, Ivan takes center stage, much to my surprise.

He bows deeply before Joan, the long tails of his purple coat stretching behind him. "Would such a lovely fair maiden join me for a dance?" he asks charmingly. After the grinning old lady nods, Ivan sweeps her up in a slow, easy swing dance, picking her feather weight up hardly off the ground and spinning her about before placing her gently back on her feet.

Freya and I cheer, unable to contain my laughter as I see the young spirit alive in Joan's wrinkled eyes. "What a great guy," Freya says, glancing at me. I nod, my cheeks flushed, hardly able to believe even my own luck. Ivan walks Joan back to her chair and sets her down gently, making sure she was steady before releasing her shoulders.

"Wow, Joan breathes, straightening the tiny lacy hat atop her head. "What a swinging party!" The party lasts long into the night, with everyone but me dancing. Dirk worries that I'm not enjoying myself at first, but I assure him I am. I'm not really the person who likes to be the center of attention; I get joy just from seeing Joan laugh, or the excitement in Freya's eyes as she rolls across up and over Dirk's back, the way tentative Antoinette claps so fervently. Seeing my family about me, so filled with life, makes me happy.

Eventually, the party dies down, and Ivan and I excuse ourselves for the night. After hugging each person and saying goodnight, Ivan and I step outside. After closing the door, the din of swing music, the clank of dishes, the boisterous laughter and chitter of conversation is instantly muted. Now, just the cold quiet Winter night is about us.

Ivan and I walk slowly back to my house, talking and laughing comfortably. At the topo of the tall hill, just before entering my property, we both turn and look back down at Zephyr Town. It's magnificent, all blanketed with frost and the yellow lights pouring bright squares through the windows.

"It's beautiful," he grins, glancing over at me.

"I had a wonderful time," I smile back. He walks me to my front door, and we hold hands innocently and whisper quietly to each other about what a grand time we had. I wait, desperately waiting for him to lean in for a goodnight kiss. He glances at the door, and my heart leaps; will he ask to come inside? I've been wondering about our first time together, but I hadn't even hoped that tonight would be the first. Would I be so lucky?

He shakes his head slightly to himself, and leans in. I try to think of a way to invite him in myself, but I've never done anything like this before. Heck, I've never been on a date before! What if he wasn't ready to take our relationship to the physical level? Would I be able to handle the rejection?

Irritated that he didn't ask to come in, and irritated that I can't think of a proper way to invite him, I lean in, settling for our first kiss. My heart is thundering in my ears, and I can hardly breathe. I wait to feel his soft, gentle lips—on my forehead. Ivan kisses me tenderly on the forehead and leans back.

I blink up at him in surprise. The _forehead?_ For our goodnight kiss? On our first date? I'm both baffled and frustrated as he politely excuses himself and turns to walk home. I sneak into my home and angrily begin to tear off my clothes, getting ready for bed. Doesn't he know how much I want him? Doesn't he know how much I need him? I crawl into bed and huff heavily as I sink into the feather stuffed blanket.

As I begin to relax, my frustration gives way to my giddiness of the night and the wine I had earlier, and I feel my arousal grow more noticeable. All I can think about are his deep, gray eyes, seeing into me, seeing my thoughts. I blush at the idea of him reading my mind, seeing my desire for him. His soft hands on my waist, his thick brown hair being flipped back over his shoulder as he steals a glance at me. My hand sneaks between my thighs, and as my fingers work in a steady circle and I sigh as my pent up frustration is slowly relieved, I can't help but think about how much better it would feel if it was his long slender fingers instead.


	9. Doltish Fears

Lately, I've been irritable. The animals have noticed and are skittish around me. No matter how hard I try to relax myself, the pent up frustration is unmanageable. I wake up with a big stretch, the early morning sunshine pouring through my window. I trudge grumpily to the bazaar grounds for today's market, the new Spring air crisp and warm. I place my wares slowly, drowsily, the Spring air so much warmer than the Winter that I feel sluggish.

I sell all my inventory, making a sum of nearly 100,000 gold pieces. I yawn as the early evening sun slowly drags itself west, the longer Spring days unusual again. I massage a kink in my shoulder, then try to reach for another knot in the center of my back. I wiggle around, trying to bend my arm in a way that will permit my nails to reach.

Another larger hand hits the spot just right, pressing firmly at the bulge of tight muscle. I sigh beneath Ivan's kneading fingers, bracing myself against my stall counter as the sun's golden rays bask us in a dreamy haze. "A little more to the left," I say, closing my eyes in content as he obeys.

"A long day?" he asks politely, rubbing a little rougher as I push my back against his hand insistently. I nod, relaxing in his presence.

"I had such a endless stream of patrons today, I didn't even get a chance to go around and buy what I needed," I add.

"Well, maybe here's something that will help you smile after a tough bazaar," he states. I can hear the smirk in his voice, and I turn with a raised eyebrow. A small, cream colored cat with green eyes stares at me from the clutches of one of Ivan's large hands. I squeal uncharacteristically, reaching for him giddily. The kitten licks my cheek with a sandpaper tongue once he's in my arms, and I giggle with glee. "I don't believe I've ever seen you make so much noise before," Ivan remarks. "I'll take that as a good sign."

"Thank you," I breathe, returning to my usual calm and quiet self. I quickly glance around, and seeing no one is around us, I stand on my tip toes, begging a kiss. He glances around himself before indulging my desperate lips. Our kiss sinks quickly from appreciation to passion, and I can feel my heart galloping in my chest.

 _Rwooooowwwww,_ the kitten growls, packed tight between our bodies. Ivan separates from me, and smiles sweetly down at me. "Seems my careful check to ensure we didn't have audience wasn't fail proof after all," he muses. I investigate his face; nowhere in the curve of his smile, in the light in his eyes, do I unearth the glimmer of passion and desire that is coursing through me. We walk home together, my face carefully held in an expression that doesn't betray my disappointment. He walks me home, and we arrive on my property just in time to see Lauren exit the barn door, all the livestock shuffled away for the evening.

"A kitten?" the young girl gasps as she approaches, her purple eyes wide with awe. "What's his name?" I smile, and tell her that I haven't named the little fellow yet, and offer her the honor. As she cradles the rambunctious feline, her brow furrows with deep thought. Finally, she grins up at me saying, "Baby."

"A fine name," Ivan nods earnestly, an endearing smile on his lovely lips. I pay Lauren for her help, and she hands Baby back to me before skipping away, waving behind her as she departs. Ivan walks me to the front door, and we begin our usual departure ritual after I place Baby inside. His arms slide about my waist, my own twining around his neck, and we embrace for a few silent moments, as we do every night. He finally kisses me softly, stroking my cheek like a feather. Then he pulls away, and I know he's about to say 'goodnight and sweet dreams, lovely', and the thought of him leaving pulls words from my mouth.

"Do you want to come in?" I blurt. I gesture to the front door, and his smile fades away into an emotionless and unreadable expression. He's been in my home countless times, but even he can sense that I have more than idle chit chat in mind.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," he says measuredly. I feel my irrational hope leave me, deflating my posture to a slouch. Another idea comes to mind, and I perk up at the prospect. "Tomorrow's Sunday, why don't we have a picnic? Just you and me?"

"I'd like that very much," he replies, his easy, polite smile returning. "I'll be here around eleven, okay?" I confirm that works for me, and he gives me one last peck on the cheek before stepping off my doorstep. "Goodnight and sweet dreams, lovely," he bids, before turning and disappearing down the lane.

I'm ready today well before eleven. The wicker basket is packed with two glasses bottles of milk, a pair of sandwiches, and a bowl of diced fruit. He arrives right on the dot, his hand wrapped around a brown paper bag. "I figured some wine would do nicely," he offers when he gets closer to me.

"It's wonderful," I assure. I take his hand and lead him to the edge of my property, meeting the tree line, and then plunge into it, the shadows of the canopy cooling us immediately. We walk aimlessly in one direction for a time, and eventually come to a spot where the space between two massive trunks is quite wide. Ivan sets about laying out the quilt.

I flop down as he pops the cork of the wine and freezes. "Glasses. I didn't think to bring glasses. Ivan, you dolt!" he self-reprimands. I take the bottle from him and upturn it against my lips, gulping down the sweet pineapple wine while maintaining eye contact.

"I don't mind," I say after a lengthy drain, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. He smiles at me, and I notice something different about this smile. It isn't perfectly polite or reigned in; it's slightly crooked, the left side a touch higher than the right. I feel a wiggle in my stomach.

"Well then, neither do I," he grins. He takes the offered bottle from my hand and takes his own swig. "A proper, countryside picnic," he declares. I smile and crawl over to him, pressing my lips against his. He tastes sticky sweet with wine, and I quiver with excitement.

It takes time and convincing, but my tongue finally makes its way into his mouth, and our kiss deepens. My pulse throbs in my throat, in my wrists. I twine my hands up and over his shoulders so my hands can cup his head, pull his face closer to mine. His mouth moves desperately against mine, begging for anything but for this to stop.

I yank on the purple rim of his over coat, and he doesn't budge. After a more insistent tug, he follows my pull till he's on top off me. Giddiness slides into the yearning gap in my heart, and I'm encouraged to try for more, more…

"Nooo," I moan mournfully as he pulls away just as my fingers are trying to ease off his purple overcoat. His face, for the first time since we've been dating, is flushed with a flood of emotion, his eyes unshielded and exposing raw pining.

"Gwen, just what are you doing?" he huffs, trying to regain his breath. I feel pleased to see him so… uncultured.

"Come on," I groan, throwing my arm over my face in frustration and embarrassment. "It was going so well!" Ivan reaches for the wine bottle and takes a long drink, eyeing me as he tries to wet his throat. I eye him myself from the shadows of my sheltering arm. When he finally lowers the bottle, I feel impatient to restart what he paused again. I sit up and try to yank him back to me by his bowtie.

"No," he says firmly, taking my hands and planting them virginally at my sides, where I can't feel him beneath my persuasive fingers. "What exactly do you think you're doing?" he repeats, his disapproving teacher's expression pulling his mouth down into a frown. My body doesn't care, and the disapproval is wildly attractive, as if I was a disobedient student. All I want to do is wipe away his frown with my tongue, melt his mature expression into one of uncontrollably pleasure, turn the dial of his tone's pitch higher from deep and lecturing to high and gasping. Gasping my name.

"Well, what do you think I'm trying to do?" I say in what I hope is a sultry manner. I try to reach for him again, but his grip tightens, and my arms stay by my side. "Ugh, Ivan! You're being ridiculous!"

" _Me?_ " He exclaims, trying unsuccessfully to hide the chuckle of surprise from his voice. "You're the one acting like an insatiable teenager!" I groan and roll my eyes. Sensing I'm no longer trying to pounce on him, he releases my wrists. "What's going on with you, Gwen? This isn't like you. You're not this forceful."

"That doesn't mean I don't have the same needs and wants as anyone else," I snap, rejection making me quick to temper.

"I never said that," Ivan says immediately, his bemused grin slipping from his face. We sit in silence for a few, and I gulp at the wine again, trying to wash down the knot in my tight throat.

"Don't you…want me?" I choke, staring hard into the underbrush and avoiding his prying gaze. "We've been together for almost a whole season now… I just…" I swig from the bottle again, angry at my show of emotion, my break in my usually calm and reserved demeanor, my constant struggle. "Tell me you don't desire me too." I turn and level him with my glare, which is watery as tears pool at the rim of my lashes. Ivan is taken aback by my intense gaze, and looks away under its heat, tugging at his bow tie. "Tell me you don't desire me," I demand again.

"I…can't," he struggles, still avoiding my stare. A coating of insecurity and a cloud of worthlessness I didn't realize was hovering over me dissipates. I crawl to him and curl up in his lap. I can hear him sigh with relief as he removes the hat he gave me and buries his face in my hair, stroking my back.

"Then why won't you?" I whimper, feeling an overwhelming flood of reassurance and confusion. "Why won't you have sex with me?" I inhale deeply, his clean scent wrapping like a security blanket about me.

"It's not that I don't want to have…" he pauses, the word 'sex' tasting foul in his mouth, "coitus with you. It's just, there's so much with…fornication that could go awry." When I push for more, he takes an unsure sigh. "Well, for starters, we aren't married."

"Always so damn chivalrous!" I yell, throwing my hands up and rising from his lap to meet his eyes.

"And there's the chance of a child," he continues, ignoring my outburst. His eyes are tight. "What if… what if I'm not well equipped to be a good father?"

"You raised Dirk," I state, surprised. This, of all things, was not one of the reasons I thought he didn't want me.

"And I did a poor job," he replies. "Think of all the times I over reacted, or under reacted."

"You're being critical," I say, shaking my head.

"And then of course there are our careers if we have children…" he trails off. I feel my stomach tighten. This was something I feared.

"I…." My stomach clenches, and my throat tightens. My farm was an escape. When I was tilling the land, watering the seeds, hauling crates of harvest so heavy I thought my arms would snap, I was the happiest. The thought of being a stay at home mother, my job description reading 'baby crafter', and leaving behind the cow poop and early mornings and dirt beneath her finger nails tears me apart. But… for forever with Ivan, I would leave it behind. "I could give up my farm," I choke.

Ivan blinks at me. "What? Give up your… no, no, absolutely not! I wasn't suggesting you do that, I was trying to say that I'd have to stop teaching." I feel a swell of selfish reassurance. He wasn't asking me to give up my calling. Next, a wave of guilt washed me. No, he wouldn't ask me to give up my calling, he'd give up his.

"No, Ivan… that's," I begin to argue, deny his idea, when he cut me off.

"Temporary. It would be temporary," he chides. He begins to pull on his bow tie nervously, avoiding my gaze again. "But… take a sabbatical to raise a child…I would be home, all the time." He glances at me, and seeing that I still am confused, he looks back down at his lap. "You…might tire of me."

I laugh uncontrollably, and tackle him to his back, kissing him all about the face, and neck. "You silly, silly man! What a thought! I could never tire of you!"

"Oh really?" he challenges, all though I can see his smile. "Even when I'm old and sagging?"

"Nope," I sing, planting a kiss on his lips.

"Not when we've been together for countless years and I'm the only man you've held for ages?"

"Nope nope," I giggle, planting another kiss.

"Not when you've been slaving on your farm all day, breaking your back and cutting your knuckles, struggling to herd the cattle, and you come home to a disheveled me, covered in baby vomit?" He wiggles his eyebrows as I laugh.

"Absolutely not," I whisper, pressing a more sincere kiss against his smirk. When I pull apart from him, his eyes are filled with concern again.

"What if I'm not equipped to be a good father?" he says hoarsely again. I stroke his brown hair back from his storm cloud eyes, relishing the fan of long lashes, the curve of his mouth, and the lines of his nose. I savor him, not taking for granted one flawless inch of skin.

"I'll just have to prove you wrong of that someday," I whisper back. "But we shouldn't deny ourselves now for some fear, without evidence, of the future." I kiss him again, persistent and persuasive, begging with my tongue, coercing with my lips. With a groan as mighty as a lions roar, Ivan flips over so he is on top of me, giving into his pent up yearning, and I lose myself in excitement as he begins to fulfill my every need.


	10. Virgin (LEMON)

**WARNING AND DISCLAIMER: This chapter is the LEMON of the story. It is rated M, for mature, and not recommended for anyone younger than the age of 17. Explicit and descriptive language will be used, as well as course swear words. If these sexual themes aren't to your palate, or you don't desire to read it, please feel free to skip ahead to the next chapter; all my stories are structured so if a reader won't enjoy the smut chapter, they can skip to the next chapter and still enjoy the story as a whole without plotline issues. All you need to know about this chapter that is actually critical to the story line is that Ivan and Gwen will be consummating their relationship. This is essentially fapfiction, or typed porn. Thanks for reading!**

This time, when I fumble to remove his purple coat, he helps me throw it off. As our tongues dance in a gasping, heated tango, he tears off my rose jacket as I work his purple bow tie from his throat. He smells of clean soap and herb perfume and something else that is tantalizing and new; desire. Flying goes his olive green vest, my flowery tunic, his white dress shirt. Quickly I remove the remaining clothes, as does he with mine. Naked we roll about first on the blanket for our supposedly innocent picnic, then onto the plush green grass, tumbling as I desire to be on top of him, only for him to flip us over so he can be above me.

He finally shoved me onto my back, insistent. He worked his body up until his veined penis hung down before my face tauntingly. "Please," he croaks.

"My pleasure," I purr, opening my mouth and permitting his cock in. My wet lips and throat absorb him, and he grunts in such a desperate way that I can't help but smirk around his thick shaft. I momentarily pull him from my mouth, saying, "What's wrong, Professor? Lost for words? With such an expansive vocabulary-"

"Who knew you talked so much? Sassy little thing," he growls, very ungentlemanly, before filling my mouth again with his swollen dick. Frankly, I didn't know I could be so sassy or wordy either. He pushes and pulls quickly into my mouth, pumping against the back of my throat. I work my mouth with his hips, taking in as much of him as I can. When I gag and make a choking noise, I worry I've done something wrong. Above, Ivan quivers, freezes. "Goddess, that noise is sexy," he groans as he begins thrusting back into my mouth. I begin using my hands to squeeze the length of him I can't swallow, spit dribbling down my chin and throat.

I switch one of my hands from his shaft to his balls, massaging and stroking them rhythmically. I hear him moan above me, and encouraged by his reaction, I keep a steady, pulsing pace. I begin to twist my mouth here and there, letting my tongue glide over the head of his penis as he pulls out before taking in his length again. When he pushes further back and I gag again, I don't try to stop making the wet, choking sound he enjoyed earlier. He twitches with pleasure, and as I twist my head, licking the tip of his member, stroke his shaft, and squeeze his testicles simultaneously, I taste something warm and bitter on my tongue. Ivan shudders as he pumps my wet mouth full of his seed.

When I feel his balls stop their pulsating in my palm, he pulls himself from my mouth. A thin line of semen pulls from my lips and drips down my body, and a trickle of it mixed with my saliva trails down my chin. "Gwen, I-I am so sorry, I should've- shoulda' warned you, I jus- just didn't know…" His words trail off as my intense gaze is noticed. When I'm sure I have his full attention, I swallow his load before licking my lips sensually. Leisurely, I drag a slender finger up my pale body, gathering up the trail of fluid that had, luckily, draped itself down the mound of my breast. I was pleased when I glanced up from beneath my lashes to see Ivan was watching me, hungrily and completely enraptured. I stuck the tip of my finger into my mouth, sucking the precious harvest from my body desperately before licking my lips again, satisfied. "Goddess," he sighs.

I look at him disapprovingly, a mock frown teasing my mouth and his sight. "Stuttered sentences and meaningless supplication to a deity?" I tisked at him disapprovingly. "Honestly, Ivan, what is all that education good for if you can't remember any of it?" His mouth, which had been an 'o' of wonder warped into a devious smile.

"You've never spoken to me with such an attitude problem before," he chuckles, taking my hand and leading me back to the blanket. At his insistence, I lay on my back and spread my legs. He dives in eagerly to my exposed vagina, whispering, "Your turn," before working my body. All I can see is his brown head of hair as his tongue swirls my entrance and his nose rubs at my clit in circular motions. I hum in pleasure, folding my hands beneath my head and savoring his skill.

"Where did you learn all this?" I sigh, heavenly.

"I may or may not have read a few shameless books on the subject," he rasps against me. "And according to those reliable sources, this just might…." The pad of one of his fingers pressed suggestively against my asshole. I gasped in shock and my hands fisted in my own hair as my legs wrapped around his head.

"Dear Goddess," I cry as he presses against my puckered rectum again. He shakes his head disapprovingly, using the opportunity to bury his nose roughly against my clitoris and his tongue delving deeper inside my taint.

"Now look who's useless with words. Disgraceful," he murmurs. He lifts his body ever so slightly to get a better look at my face before spitting on both his middle finger and my asshole again. Just as I'm asking what he thinks he's doing, he raises himself again so he can watch my expression before easing his index finger back into my slit, and his lubed middle finger into my ass.

I lose all cool; I buck above him uncontrollably, my eyes rolling back into my head sightlessly before squeezing shut. "Finally," I hear him snort beneath me cockily. "I was wondering what it would take to make you lose control the way you made me lose control." He leans back down and rubs my clit with his tongue in time with his easy, deep thrusts.

This is wrong. So wrong. Why does it feel so damn good? All my past lovers never even came close to pleasing me this much. I can't control myself; helpless, embarrassing mewls roll from my throat shamefully. I can't get enough air. I feel a familiar tingle under his tongue. As my climax nears, I peek down at him. I'm not sure how long I've been gifted with his talents, but his spare hand is pumping his now hard cock again.

He opens his eyes and stares up at me with intent, rubbing his tongue rougher on my small bump. It's too much; my throbbing clit, his finger pumping and twirling in my twat, his other finger pushing deep into my unexplored anus, and watching his large hand jerk his red, rock hard cock….

"I'm cumming!" I scream, warning him where he didn't warn me. I feel the explosion of ecstasy rush across my body. To either side of Ivan's sprawled body, my toes curl and my knees bend. My back is arching off the blanket and my hands fist the fabric into bunches. Each wave of pleasure that crashes over my body is more intense than the last. I cry his name over and over with each pulse of satisfaction, a single unmanageable tear leaking down into my hairline as I ride the unsurpassable orgasm guiltlessly. Stars flash behind my eyelids, and when my eyes pop open wide, I see black dots swimming in front of my face.

I quake, tender and soft as I finally get a decent, deep breath. He pulls from me carefully and crawls above me. He prods my inner thighs with his trembling member, trying to find purchase in my wet skin. "Yes, there it goes," he moans as he slips inside of me. He pumps slowly inside of me, and I lazily relax beneath him, greedily taking the pleasure and not putting in any work. With each thrust inside, he comes level with my nose, and presses a sweet loving kiss to it.

After a few minutes of him slowly working my body, I planted my feet below and behind him, my thick thighs pressing into him in time with his thrusts. Around us, birds sing cheerily, and the sunlight is shining down on us, lighting our love making as a spot of brightness in the gloom of the forest's heart. For miles, I am the only woman, and he my man, in our personal Garden of Eden.

I feel his pumps growing less rhythmic as he tires, his body use to flipping the pages of a book and scholastic endeavors. "Relax," I command soothingly, pushing on his chest until he's on his back. Where his body is thin and fragile, mine is rock hard, my feminine curves furthered by tight abs and thick thighs. I mount him easily, resting on my knees and letting my hard core grinding him inside of me. He watches me hungrily before laying his head back and going limp, letting me put in the effort. He moans loudly, his large hands resting on my thighs, feeling them tighten and relax. His voice has left behind its deep commanding tone and morphed into a higher pitch wheeze of desperation.

I begin to use a hand to rub my soft clitoris again, soaking in his furrowing brow, the sound of his begging breath, the way each exhalation has the slightest whisper of my name, a silent prayer for only me to hear. I can feel my climax returning for a second time. I want to come with him, together. I plant one foot on each side of his narrow hips, and begin to lift myself up and down on him, my strong legs making easy work of the exercise. I slap down on him, his slick balls tapping against my ass loudly. He begins to tense, his nose crinkling as he begins to breathe faster.

"Gwen, I'm gonna'-" we explode together in pleasure. Our cries mixing like our fluids, we tremble with nirvana. I feel my sex tighten around his thick shaft, which in turn is throbbing inside of me. My legs give out beneath me, and I fall forward onto his slender chest, whimpering as our orgasms pass. He slowly wraps his arms around my nude back, his chest heaving beneath me. Exhausted we breathe in sync, trying to bring our pulses back down to livable paces. "I…never knew making love would feel like that," he admits.

Just like that, the moment is sweeter for me; I was his first. This second in time, with the trees closing in around us to shield us in our paradise, the sun glowing against his unmarred skin, the music of life reborn in Spring, was his first brush with intimacy. I keep the knowledge tucked behind my heart, where no one but I can find it, and only he and I can relive it.

I'm smiling, still laying on his chest, when his breathes fall a little shallower; he's fallen asleep. I peek up at him, and he's the most perfect creature I've ever seen. His high cheek bones shining, light brown hair tousles, lovely eyes fluttering in slumber, his mouth slightly ajar, a thin trail of drool making its way from the corner of his mouth. I take a moment, which is honestly several minutes, just to watch him exist as mine, before giving him a slight shake. He mutters to himself, still partially in a dream, as he comes to. He blinks down at me, takes in my bare breasts, before a childish grin breaks out of his face. "It's you," he sighs happily, wrapping his arms drowsily about me.

I giggle and after several minutes, coerce him to his feet, although he pouts quite a bit about being sleepy. We redress and I throw the blanket over my shoulder. As we walk back to my farm, I pull out the food I brought, and we eat as we walk, not having to hold hands to feel close to each other as we chat about anything and everything. When we finally hear the near lowing of the cows and break the tree line of my property, it's nearly two in the afternoon. When I invite him into my home this time, he breaks into that huge, genuine, crooked grin of his and comes right in. We collapse on my bed, and he falls asleep in my arms, cradled to my chest.


	11. Celestial Blessings(Conclusion)

The next few weeks fly by in a tornado of stolen kisses and sweet sighs. Baby has taken a liking to Ivan, and whenever he is around, Baby is twined between his boots. I am visiting Emiko, and her vacant Grey eyes warm considerably when she sees it's me. "Hello, Gwen. You shine with joy. Has something happened?" I simply explain that Ivan and I are very happy together, and she nods with a smile. "I am happy for you." I give her the fresh Mint I picked for her, and leave, the list of things I have to do today running repeatedly through my head.

I sneak from around the waterfall carefully, and find Sherry and Antoinette chatting animatedly by the river. Upon seeing me, their expression warp. Sherry breaks into a lovely grin that makes even the sun feel shame at how Sherry's smile outshines it. Antoinette smirks, her purple eyes narrowing with pleasure and a hidden secret. "How are _you_ today, Gwen?" Sherry practically sings. I blink in confusion, my gaze snapping between both of their faces, trying to unearth the reason for their strangeness.

"I'm well," I say, my regular plainness evident. Antoinette's smirk deepens, and I can't decide if it's malicious or happy; perhaps both. Antoinette grabs my hand and begins hauling me along the river, Sherry's hand slipping about my waist as she keeps stride, chattering lively. I'm extraordinarily confused, but I follow their lead.

Lloyd appears from around the trees that hold his hammock and his smile is considerably larger than regular; I can see his neat, white teeth. He joins us and even talks quite a bit. "What's going on?" I finally ask, interrupting Sherry's monologue of the beauty of Spring. The three of them share a look, quick as a hummgerbird's wing.

"Today's a festival," Lloyd announces, a smug smile on his face again. I blink in confusion. Lloyd is notorious for not paying attention to festivals. What about this one is so special? Now that I think on it, I just checked the calendar this morning, and although I'm trying, I can't recall seeing a festival mark on today's box. We arrive in the town proper, and surprisingly, everyone is about. The town center is a bustle of activity. People talking and laughing and socializing. I'm surprised; Ethel and Stuart are out of the hotel, and Amir is even nodding at something Claude is saying.  
Embarrassed, I scan my memory for what festival this is, and I feel ashamed. If this is an animal festival, I forgot to bring my livestock. If it's…well, any festival of any kind, I didn't bring an entry.

Felix stands proud by the fountain, talking animatedly with Nellie, whose hands are wringing her yellow apron nervously. I see Freya sitting with Wilbur and pull away from my entourage.

"I'm worthless," I say as soon as I take the third seat between them.

"I could've told you that, my sweet," Freya smiles teasingly.

"I have no idea what festival this is, and I'm so unprepared," I continue, ignoring her jab.

"Really?" Wilbur grunts, tugging at his moustache. For a moment, his hand shifts away from his face, and I can see a huge smile on his face before he returns his hand to his facial hair. What on earth is going on?" "Quite uncharacteristic of you, Gwen. You haven't forgotten a single person's birthday since you moved here."

"Wait, I thought this was a festival!" I whisper harshly, growing quickly overwhelmed. "I don't have a present for whoever this is for!"

"It's not a birthday," Wilbur laughs heartily, pounding me on the back. "I was just using that as an example of how good you are at remembering things of importance."

"Clearly I'm not that great," I grumble. "I've clearly missed something."

"This isn't a festival," Freya smirks, causing me to throw my hands up in the air in exasperation. "But it certainly is a celebration." A familiar, thin hand grasps my shoulder, kneading at the pent up frustration.

"There you are," I sigh, leaning back against Ivan.

"You shouldn't be so stressed," he remarks, smiling down at me.

"How can I _not_ be?" I groan. "First Lloyd says all _this,_ " I gesture to all the balloons and streamers hung above, from the roof of Joan's Café to Raul's shop, "is a festival, than these two," an impatient gesture at Kevin's father and my best friend, "say it's a birthday! Then they say it _isn't_ a festival, and everyone is being so cryptic and I could use some champagne," I finish weakly. He chuckles above me, and I wish I could grab the sound a snuggle it.

"You just might need some champagne after this," he remarks. I peer up at him suspiciously, and quickly Freya and Wilbur scramble from their seats. About us, things grow quieter, and my gaze darts about. Everyone is staring. I begin to open my mouth, try to ask what's going on, but my tongue's dry. I never enjoyed all the eyes on me during festivals, and this is no different.

Ivan slowly turns my chair around, and before I know it, he's kneeling in front of me, my left hand held gently in both of his. I'm glad I'm sitting, because at this point, I probably would've fallen over. "Gwen," he starts after clearing his throat, "it is clear to me, and all those around us now, that I haven't been as happy before as I am now, with you. Do you know what day it is?"

I scour my brain, everything rushing about too quickly. The blood in my veins, the thoughts in my head. "It's the 22nd of Spring," I finally croak.

"That's right. A year ago, the rains had flooded the river's banks, and you somehow managed to get caught in the current." I nod, experiencing once again the tug of the water; I don't feel fear, because I know how the story ends. "A year ago, I saved your life, and now, I ask that you return the favor." He goes deep into his purple overcoat's pocket, pulls out a velvet black box. Inside is a silver band and the world's tiniest diamond. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. "Gwen, will you please save my life as well, and be my wife?"

A collective inhale from the entire village is audible. I want to say yes, and I'm trying so hard to say it, but the word is caught in my throat. Everything in my mouth is dry, my throat tied in a double knot, and I just can't get the stupid word out. I nod, ever so slightly, trying to let him know that I need him just as much as he needs me. "She said yes!" Angelo cheers from somewhere.

The village erupts with cries, and everyone is jumping up and down and screaming, except for Ivan, who is still smiling his wonderful smile at me, his grey eyes watery with tears. He rises as he slips the flawless ring onto my ring finger, but only high enough so we are eye level with each other, equals. He kisses me, and behind me, I can hear Cindy and Kevin scream how gross kissing is.

I'm bent over, filth beneath my fingernails, yanking weeds from the shadows of my tall corn stalks. The Summer sun beats down heavily on me, and my clothes are soaked with my sweat. It's late afternoon, and I can hear the lowing of the cows as Lauren herds them in for me.

Baby grooms himself a few paces away, a large tom now. He pauses in his licking, lowers his back leg as his ears prick and his head snaps in the direction of the house. A ruckus of crashing through stalks rips through the relatively still air, and Baby sneaks behind me for protection.

"Mama!" Celeste cries, tackling into me, her sunshine hair flinging around us. "Mama, Lauren says it's time!"

"Celeste, I'm filthy," I reprimand, trying to push her back without soiling her intense red dress with my muddy hands. "Be careful, or you'll get dirty."

"But Mama, I want a hug," she pouts, her sweet little lip jutting out. I instantly wrap her in a tight hug, smothering her with countless kisses. She giggles and giggles so hard that she begins to gasp for air. After I release her, she looks down at her now filthy dress and wipes at the mud. She makes a fake face of disgust as she wipes at it.

"Look what you did," she groans. I reach out and tickle her tummy, and she stumbles back a few steps, covering her pudgy middle with her hands with a laugh.

"You knew it would happen," I smile at my daughter. "You almost stepped on Baby," I reprimand lightly.

"Sorry, Baby," Celeste sings, petting the orange tabby lightly. Baby purrs against her palm, all transgressions forgiven. The stalks part behind Celeste, and Lauren, thin and lanky at thirteen, snatches my child up. Celeste clings to her nanny lovingly, and begins braiding a strand of her blonde hair with Lauren's pink hair.

"Lauren, take her inside, wash her up and get her into a new dress before we go," I ask with a grin.

"Alright," she nods. She totes my child and leans down, so Celeste can first kiss my soiled cheek, than Lauren can kiss the top of my head. Lauren's been working for me now for nearly half her life, and she's more of an older sister to Celeste than a sitter.

The pair disappear through my crop, and I yank a few more weeds up before rising to follow them. Baby, seeing me departing, rushes ahead of me, not wanting to be left behind. I rinse off at the kitchen sink, and as I finish changing into a clean change of clothes, Celeste runs from the bathroom cackling, butt naked.

"Get back here, you little farmer's brat!" Lauren's laughing, Celeste's red dress in her fist.

"You're a farmer's brat, too!" Celeste calls back, sticking out her tongue.

"Get your clothes on, or you'll be sleeping with the horse tonight in the hay," I growl, giving my daughter my most severe glare. She openly laughs at me, chalking up the threat to all the other funny punishments her father and I come up with before returning to Lauren to get dressed. "I'll throw you out, the lot of you, you drive me so nuts," I continue. Lauren and Celeste giggle, finally decent.

"You love us too much to get rid of us," Celeste states.

"Farmer's brats," I growl, trying my hardest to hide my adoring gaze.

" _Your_ brats," Lauren chides, wholly unaffected by my insults. "We'd better get going!" Celeste skips out to front door, the late Summer sun low, but still sweltering. Lauren and I chat as we walk, my daughter bobbing along in front of us. We arrive in the town proper, and Cindy and Kevin are leaning against the bridge, watching the water flow by. Realizing that they have company, they both sidle a little further apart. Just about the whole town knows of the young love blossoming between them, yet embarrassment and self-consciousness is still working between them. We greet them, and Lauren stays with them, waving goodbye to Celeste and I as we continue to make our way to Dirk's house.

Celeste bangs through the front door, immediately locates Dirk in the kitchen, and attacks his legs, trying with no avail to knock him to the floor. "Oh, what a wee ankle biter we've got here, Antoinette!" Dirk laughs, flipping his niece upside down and hanging her by the ankles.

"Auntie Antoinette, help!" Celeste wails, her blonde hair obscuring her smile.

"Dirk, you put that girl down this _instant,_ " Antoinette growls from the archway into the kitchen. Dirk puts Celeste right side up, and my daughter sticks her tongue out teasingly, prompting Dirk to chase her around the kitchen table. "I've married a toddler," Antoinette sighs as she hugs me tightly.

"Hey, she started it!" Dirk protests, pointing at my pint sized child. Celeste goes into the living room to listen to her father's, and once her grandmother's, records. Dirk, Antoinette, and I begin pulling loaves from the oven, soups off the stovetop, and preparing the food. Dinner is to be quite the affair tonight.

The front door creaks open. "DADDY!" You wouldn't believe me if I told you, but a five year old can make just as much noise as an elephant when she runs to the door to hug her father.

"There's my little lass! Were you good for Lauren today?" Ivan is saying as he hoists the blonde girl into the kitchen. As Celeste nods vigorously, I put my hands on my hips, the perfect picture of sternness.

"She ran about the house naked as a newborn, making Lauren and I chase her down to clothe her," I report.

"A nightmare, you are," Ivan announces to his kid as Dirk tries to muffle his laughter. "A right disaster. We'll have to get rid of you, for sure." Celeste laughs, rolling her eyes and not believing either of the fronts her parents have presented her with for a moment. "I saw Grandpa Claude coming with a circular pan up the way."

"A pie?" Celeste whispers in awe as Ivan lowers her to the ground.

"Why don't you go see?" her dad suggests. She bolts out the door to go find her grandfather, and Ivan kisses his brother and sister-in-law on the cheek before hugging me tightly. "She's aged me decades in five years," Ivan complains in jest about our daughter.

"If you weren't such a softie, she wouldn't be so spoiled," I smile accusingly. We part and continue to help our family set the table. Outside, my usually solemn father-in-law is singing completely off key some old tune I can't quite place, and I can hear Celeste laughing with glee.

Claude comes stomping heavily into the house, still singing awfully, his grandchild sitting on his shoulders. Celeste holds a pie in her tiny hands while Claude holds her legs to keep her balanced on top. A ring of greetings sings out, and as Claude lowers my darling girl from his shoulders, Ivan grabs my hand under the table and gives me a squeeze.

"How was work?" I whisper to my husband, in our own little bubble of a tranquility in the storm of our family.

"I'm glad to be home," Ivan replies softly, his overcast eyes calm as he looks at me. Outside our bubble, someone calls they can see Freya coming, and someone else laments how it's about time, they're starving. Ivan leans down and kisses me as softly as a butterfly's wing beats, and I lose myself in the perfect of a grand storm.

 **Thanks to all my readers and reviewers out there! Hope you liked my story!**


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